


The Lying Game

by orphan_account



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon), DuckTales
Genre: Angst, Minor Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taurus Bulba kidnaps Gizmoduck to get spare parts for his own failing mechanical body, and F.O.W.L. High Commander Belle Beakford abducts Gyro Gearloose in an attempt to get a Gizmosuit.  Darkwing is forced to work with both F.O.W.L. and Gizmoduck to stop Bulba... but can any of them trust the others?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My fanfic "Fair Is F.O.W.L." is a prequel to this story. For this to make sense, you really should read "Fair" first!
> 
> Standard Old Fic Disclaimer: This story was written in 2008, before the recent DWD comics (which I haven't read) came out.

"Another day, another bank heist," Darkwing Duck commented as the Ratcatcher skidded to a stop in front of the First Bank of St. Canard.  "Second time this place has been hit up in a week.  Yep yep yep, what would they do without _Darkwing Duck_ to foil the felonious offenders?"

"Wonder if it's F.O.W.L. again this time," Launchpad McQuack pondered as he hopped out of the motorcycle's passenger car.

"We shall soon find out.  Come on, L.P."  Darkwing fired a grappling hook from his gun, latching it onto the decorative edge of the bank's roof.  "Let's see if we can get a _drop_ on them, so to speak."

Darkwing climbed up the side of the bank, leaving the rather less agile Launchpad to scramble up after him.  They peered down through a skylight which gave them a clear view of the bank's lobby.  Below him, Launchpad saw a trio of hoofed felons-- a goat, a ram, and a donkey-- pointing guns at the bank manager and tellers.

"Hmm," Darkwing murmured.  "Hammerhead Hannigan and his boys.  What are _they_ doing back in town?"

"Robbing a bank, it looks like," Launchpad offered.

"Why do I even bother?" muttered Darkwing.

As they watched, the porcine bank manager was trying to convince the goat, Hammerhead Hannigan, that an attempt to get into the bank's vault was useless.

"You'll never get through that door," the pig protested.  "It's made of reinforced titanium with a time lock!  _We_ can't even open it--"

He broke off as Hammerhead bent down, scraped the ground with his foot, then pelted towards the door at full tilt.  When he rammed into the vault, the door popped right off its hinges and fell inward with a crash.

". . . oh," the manager said weakly as Hammerhead made a fist and knocked on his own head.  It made a hollow, metallic noise.

"Boy," the vertically-challenged ram said cheerfully, "that sure is _using your head._ "  He broke off in mid-chuckle when Hammerhead picked up him by the horn and popped him one.

" _I_ make the puns around here, Mouth," he growled before tossing his small associate into the vault.  He gave Hoof the donkey, who was holding several burlap sacks, a shove in that direction as well.  "Now start loadin' up the dough into those sacks, ya mugs!  I gotta watch the hostages."

"Barnyard bums burglarizing banks?" Darkwing quipped.  " _This_ looks like a job for--"  He broke off as there was an earth-shattering crash below them.

"Gizmoduck!" Launchpad cried.  The robot-suited superhero had burst through the large plate-glass window in the front of the bank.

"Hold it right there, you hooved heathens!" Gizmoduck declared, before turning to the bank manager with a slightly abashed look.  "Uh, sorry about the window."

The pig shrugged.  "Don't worry about it.  We're insured."

" _Gizmoduck?_ " Darkwing squawked.  "Not _him_."

"What's the big deal?" Launchpad shrugged.  "I'm bushed-- we've been chasing crooks all night!  Why don't we let him take care of these three?"

" _What?_ " spluttered Darkwing.  "And let that gadget-laden goon take all the glory?  Not on your life, L.P.!"

Below them, Gizmoduck had already started dealing with the offending mammals; as Darkwing pried open the skylight, Launchpad saw Hoof get bopped with a boxing glove on a spring while Gizmoduck slapped Mouth in the face with a large fish.  (As always, Launchpad wondered just what Gyro Gearloose was thinking when he came up with some of the Gizmosuit's weapons.)

When the skylight was open, Darkwing fired a smoke pellet down into the bank, then he and Launchpad dropped down into the resulting cloud.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" Darkwing crowed as the smoke cleared.  "I am the auditor who freezes your Swiss bank accounts!  I am--"

"Darkwing Duck!  Not him!" groaned all three felons-- and Gizmoduck.

" _Yes_ , him!" Darkwing snapped, rounding on Gizmoduck.  "What are _you_ doing here?  This is the second time in a week you've interrupted me interrupting a robbery!  You think this bank is your personal property or something?"

"Uh, D.W.--" Launchpad began, but Darkwing waved him off.

"Not _now_ , L.P.!"

" _I_ didn't see you interrupting any robbery!" Gizmoduck protested.  "If you wanted to stop it, where _were_ you all this time?"

"D.W.--" Launchpad tried again, tugging on Darkwing's cape.

"I was waiting for the right moment, when these crooks would be off their guard!"

"You mean, the right moment when you could make the grandest entrance!"

" _Why you--_ "  Darkwing started to jump on Gizmoduck-- but instead got clobbered in the head with a moneybag held by Hoof, about whom Launchpad had tried to warn him.  The donkey brayed in wheezing laughter as the stunned duck sank to his knees.  Launchpad tried to grab the bag away from Hoof, but got tripped by Mouth, who struck him in the knees with another sack.

"You miscreants, I'll-- _oof_!"  Gizmoduck's attack was stopped by Hammerhead, who head-butted the superhero so hard, he fell over on his back.

"C'mon, let's get outta here!" Hammerhead ordered his associates.  They bolted out of the bank, Hoof and Mouth still carrying their purloined cash.

"Our money!" the bank manager wailed, watching the crooks depart.  He turned on the stunned superheroes with a glare.  "You just let them escape!"

"Ugh," Darkwing groaned, staggering to his feet.  "Let's see _you_ try to chase someone with 'E Pluribus Unum' imprinted on your forehead."  He glared at Gizmoduck as he slowly righted himself onto his wheel.  "If you hadn't tried to steal my glory--"

"What glory?" Gizmoduck protested.  "I wasn't trying to infringe on your territory; I just go where I'm needed! I was in St. Canard on military business, and I intercepted the police broadcast about the robbery.  Besides," he added, his beak turning down disapprovingly, "I didn't see anyone _else_ trying to stop it.  While you were up there biding your time, these good people could have been hurt!"

"I had it under control," Darkwing said in a tight voice which Launchpad recognized as a sign he was about to lose it.

The bank manager folded his arms.  "So, did it ever occur to either of you to follow the robbers?"

"Uh, right, I was getting to that," Darkwing stammered.  "Come on, L.P.!"  He darted out the door, followed by Launchpad.  They looked up and down the street. . . which was completely empty.

"They must have had someone waiting to pick them up," growled Darkwing.  "So they aren't working alone. . . ."

"Do you think they could be working for Taurus Bulba again?"  Darkwing jumped at the sound of Gizmoduck's voice, and turned on him with a glare.

"Don't you ever quit?  And how do _you_ know anything about Taurus Bulba?"

Gizmoduck shrugged.  "I read the newspaper.  Everyone thought he was dead until he was spotted a few weeks ago, in some kind of robot costume."

"It wasn't a _robot costume_ ," Darkwing said disparagingly, then he went on more seriously.  "He _was_ dead, for all intents and purposes.  F.O.W.L. had somehow obtained his remains and kept them physically alive until they could develop a robot body to house them in.  He's a cyborg-- a _real_ one, not just a guy in a suit."

"I resent your tone!" Gizmoduck said loftily.

"Tone aside," Darkwing glowered, "they had the chutzpa to think that Bulba would work for _them_ \-- typical of High Command.  I tried to stop him, but he. . . got away," he admitted in a low voice.

"Hmm.  So he's stronger now than ever?"

Darkwing looked slightly surprised that Gizmoduck hadn't taken the chance to mock him for failing to stop Bulba.  "Erm, yes.  He does have one flaw-- whenever he gets really angry, his robotic body overheats and he shuts down for a short time, a moment at most.  But other than that, he seems to be indestructible."

"Aha-- then you need another indestructible mechanoid to defeat him!" Gizmoduck declared.

"Oh no," Darkwing groaned.

"I think I'll stick around for a while in St. Canard," Gizmoduck said.  "I have some vacation time coming, and perhaps I can track down Bulba!"

Launchpad scratched his head.  "You want to spend your vacation fighting crime?"

"What else am I going to do with it?" Gizmoduck murmured.

"You _won't_ find Bulba," Darkwing informed him.  "I've been looking for him for weeks.  He's holed up somewhere, apparently while that gang of his steals money for him."  He frowned.  "Wonder what he needs _more_ money for.  He left his estate to his secretary, and if I know Clovis van de Cudd, she gave it right back when he turned up alive."

"He's a criminal," Gizmoduck shrugged.  "It's typical for them to love money."

Darkwing raised an eyebrow at him.  "If you're operating under the assumption that Taurus Bulba is a typical criminal, you don't stand a chance."

\--

"Am I the only one who finds this suspicious?"  F.O.W.L. High Commander Calvin Aquila tapped the tip of his pen against the desk High Command shared in their conference room.  "Out of all our agents, Steelbeak is the _only_ one not out of commission?"

"That's not what's suspicious," Commander Chogan said, glancing up from his tablet.  "What's suspicious is that they all woke up yesterday morning with broken legs."  He sighed and looked back down at his screen.

Beau Beakford growled and jabbed the point of a well-chewed #2 pencil against the desk.  "He should be punished for this!  You _know_ he's behind it.  For some reason he wanted this assignment badly enough to make certain there weren't any other candidates in the running."

"We'll never be able to prove it was his doing," Aquila told him rather tiredly.  "And besides, I don't suppose it really makes much difference _who_ goes after Gizmoduck."

"It's the principle of the thing!" Beau exploded.  "He's getting too damn arrogant!  Just because he's our best agent-- and that's not saying much, considering the imbeciles we employ-- he thinks he can resort to kneecapping to get his way!"  He glowered down at his pencil.  "I don't know why he wants this assignment anyway."

He looked up sharply when his sister Belle burst into the room.  "I've got it," she announced.  "Gyro Gearloose has to be the inventor of the Gizmosuit."

"Hmm."  Beau gave his sister a dirty look and muttered, "Then again, maybe I _do_ know."

"Gearloose has been working for Scrooge McDuck for years," Belle said, leaning across the desk to slap a print-out down in front of the others.  "Including the time period that McDuck had Fenton Crackshell as his accountant."

"And you're sure that this Crackshell is Gizmoduck?" Aquila asked, studying the information she had gathered on Gearloose.

"Yes.  He looks just like the duck I saw wearing the suit.  In addition, he began working for McDuck at the same time Gizmoduck did, _and_ he quit when Gizmoduck left McDuck's employment to work with the military."  She revealed her sharp teeth in a smile, an unusual gesture which she only used when things were going extremely well for F.O.W.L.  "The Gizmosuit was originally created for McDuck, as a way to guard his fortune.  Gearloose is the only inventor who's ever worked for him, so it makes sense that _he_ created the suit."

"Excellent.  And he's still in Duckburg?" asked Chogan.

"Yes."  Belle straightened up and folded her arms.  "When Steelbeak calls to report in, you can tell him to go after Gearloose as well as Crackshell.  How long before you expect him to call, anyway?"

"It should be any minute now," Chogan told her.  "He was supposed to report as soon as he reached Duckburg."

"Mmn.  I'll be in my office if you need me."  Belle stalked out of the room only a moment before a call request came through to High Command's video-phone unit.  Aquila pushed the connect button under the desk, and Steelbeak appeared on the monitor.   He was sitting in his car with three of F.O.W.L.'s Eggmen.

"Okay, I'm here.  Now what?" the rooster asked impatiently as he pulled out a handkerchief and started polishing his prosthetic beak.

"We have some new information for you," Aquila replied.  "We have identified the creator of the Gizmosuit-- his name is Gyro Gearloose.  After you. . . pick up Crackshell, locate Gearloose as well.  We want them both."

"Geez, never satisfied, are ya?   Where do I take 'em after we've got 'em?  To youse guys?"  He looked at Beau somewhat suspiciously as he spoke, as if trying to discern whether the silhouette he could see belonged to him or to Belle.  Beau smirked and leaned back in his chair.  Let him wonder.

"Yes, bring them here to headquarters.  We'll have, ah, accommodations prepared for them," Aquila told him.

"Right."  Steelbeak gave his beak a final swipe with the handkerchief.  "Agent Steelbeak, out."

"Here's hoping he doesn't screw it up like usual," Beau grumbled after the rooster had ended the call.  "Especially since he seems to be our only available agent at the moment."

"As long Crackshell is caught off guard and doesn't get a chance to put on the Gizmosuit, everything should be fine.  The only other force in Duckburg who could contend with us is the DIA, and there's no reason why they would get involved," Chogan said.  "You know that Commander Beakford planned everything carefully."

"I know," muttered Beau.  "That's what I'm afraid of."

\--

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

The afternoon following the robbery, Launchpad had lunch at Hamburger Hippo with Fenton Crackshell, Gizmoduck's alter ego.  Darkwing had declined the invitation to eat with them, saying rather pointedly that he didn't have time for minor matters like eating when there were bank robbers on the loose.

"Try to cut D.W. some slack," Launchpad said around a mouthful of fries after Fenton mentioned Darkwing's attitude that day.  " _I_ know you're just trying to be helpful, but think about how he must feel about you showin' up here all the time.  I mean, _he_ never goes to _Duckburg_ to solve crimes."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Fenton sighed.  "But. . . well, when I hear about people in trouble, and it doesn't look like Darkwing's doing anything to save them--"

"But he _is_ ," Launchpad tried to explain.  "He just. . . he works different from you.  I know it might _look_ like he's only in it for the glory, but he's not.  He's got as good a heart as you do, Fenton.  He just doesn't show it."  He paused and eyed Fenton's nearly untouched burger.  "You gonna eat that?"

Fenton shoved it to him across the table.  "Gee, I wish I could see _that_ side of him.  I really do wanna like him, since he's your friend and all. . . and the Justice Ducks _do_ make a pretty good team."

"He doesn't open up to much of anybody," Launchpad mumbled as he inhaled the sandwich.  "Not even to me or Morgana a lot of the time.  I guess he's the closest to Gosalyn, but they're usually too busy arguin' to talk about much of anything else."

"Mmn," Fenton said distractedly.  "Maybe I _should_ go back to Duckburg.  But I can't shake the feeling that this Bulba character is up to something.  We haven't seen those henchmen of his around Duckburg _or_ St. Canard in a long time, then they suddenly turn up this soon after Bulba was resurrected.  I bet they're up to something."  He sighed again and slumped back in his chair.  "I guess I should just let Darkwing handle it."

Launchpad started to say that it might be for the best. . . then he remembered what had happened the last time Darkwing Duck had taken on Taurus Bulba.  _We couldn't stop him by ourselves-- but I bet Gizmoduck could!_ he thought.  And besides that, he realized that he actually missed Fenton.  They'd hardly seen each other since Launchpad had left Duckburg.

"Actually, maybe you _should_ stick around a little while longer," Launchpad suggested.  "You might as well if you're on vacation.  Even if Bulba doesn't turn up, we could still hang out together and have some fun.  It'll be just like old times!"  
  
Fenton perked up considerably.  "Really?  Just you and me?"

"Yeah," Launchpad grinned back.  "Just us.  Er, as long as we aren't dealin' with Bulba.  I uh, think we'd better let D.W. help out with that."  
  
"Of course.  I'd better go get a room at the hotel then," Fenton said cheerfully.  "But that reminds me. . . ."  He leaned down and pulled one of his suitcases out from under the table.  "Can you do something for me?"

"Sure, buddy."

"I want you to keep the Gizmosuit while I'm here."

Launchpad stared at him.  "Me?  You don't want me to _wear_ it do you?  Remember what happened the last time I tried to be Gizmoduck-- the Beagle Boys nearly got into Mr. McD's money bin!"

"No, no, you don't have to wear it.  I just. . . well, I don't want to keep it at the hotel with me."  Fenton fidgeted with a napkin on the table.  "After that woman saw me without my helmet last week, I'm afraid that someone might track me down, especially in St. Canard.  If anything does happen to me, I don't want the suit falling into the wrong hands."

"Nothin's going to happen to you!" Launchpad protested.  "We never did find out who that hostage was, but we haven't seen her since.  If she _was_ workin' with F.O.W.L., she would've tried something by now!"

"Please, Launchpad," Fenton said.  "You're the only person in St. Canard I trust to take care of the suit."

"I. . . well, all right," Launchpad gave in.  "Just-- if anything happens, like if Taurus Bulba turns up, you come to Drake's house and get it, okay?  I don't wanna get stuck wearing it again!"

"You won't."  Fenton shoved the suitcase over to Launchpad with his foot.  "Thanks."

"No problemo," Launchpad murmured.  He just hoped it wouldn't _become_ a problem.

\--

Meanwhile, at a hideout located above an underpass on the outskirts of St. Canard, Hammerhead, Mouth, and Hoof were regarding the profits from the bank robbery-- only two half-filled sacks-- with dismal expressions.

"Taurus Bulba's gonna be awful mad about this," Mouth said mournfully.

"Yeah, and that's why _you're_ the one who's gonna tell him," growled Hammerhead.

"Me?" the short ram yelped.  "I told him last time!  Make Hoof do it!"

Hammerhead rolled his eyes.  "Hoof don't talk, stupid."  Hoof gave a wheezing, braying laugh of affirmation, earning him a slap on the head from the goat.

Before they could argue any further, they heard the extremely heavy footfalls of their boss approaching.  Hoof cringed and tried to hide behind Mouth (which move wasn't particularly successfully considering the height of the ram).  A moment later, Taurus Bulba stalked into the room, accompanied by his assistant Clovis van de Cudd.

Even though it had been a few weeks since the reconstructed Bulba had located his former. . . employees, Hammerhead still got a little shock every time he saw the bull.  Bulba had always been huge, but his mechanical additions made him seem even more tremendous , not to mention the fact that he really was much heavier, stronger. . . and more dangerous.  So, naturally, when Bulba had informed Hammerhead, Hoof, and Mouth that he would require their assistance in a little fund-raising, they had agreed immediately.

"Clovis tells me you barely got enough money to put gas in the getaway car," the bull growled.  "You know we need _much_ more money than that to repair the shoddy parts created for me by those incompetent fools at F.O.W.L.  What happened?"

Hammerhead nudged Mouth roughly.  "Well, ya drain clog?  The boss is waitin'."

"We. . . uh. . . that is. . . ." poor Mouth stammered uselessly.  "Darkwing Duck--"

" ** _Darkwing Duck_** _?_ " Taurus bellowed.  "That insufferable, arrogant, feathered--"

"Taurus Bulba, please," Clovis said calmly.  "You'll overheat again."

"Right. . . right."  Bulba made a visible effort to compose himself.  "Start from the beginning.  _Hammerhead_."

"Hoo boy," Hammerhead murmured.  "Well, everything went fine at first.  We got the vault open, and Hoof and Mouth was gettin' the cash out.  But then, Dark-- I mean, you know who dropped outta the ceilin' and--"

"Wait, you got it backwards!" Mouth interrupted.  "That other guy showed up first!"

"Oh right, whatsisname.   Bimboduck."

"Not Bimboduck. _Gizmoduck_."

"Gizmoduck?  Who is this Gizmoduck?" Bulba glared.  "Does he work with Darkwing Duck?"

The goons shrugged, but Clovis shook her head.  "No, Gizmoduck is a superhero from Duckburg.  He shows up in St. Canard occasionally to make Darkwing Duck's life miserable."

"Ah," Bulba said with a slight smile.  "I like him already."

"He was really somethin'," Hammerhead mused.  "He's some kinda cy. . . cy. . . one a' them things like you, boss."

"A cyborg?"  Bulba stared at him.  "Gizmoduck is a cyborg?"

"Yeah, he's all metal, 'cept for his beak!"

"Yes, he is rumored to be bullet-proof and virtually indestructible," Clovis added.

"I believe it," Hammerhead muttered, rubbing his head.  "My noggin's still sore where I butted him.  If he hadn't been distracted by Darkwing Duck yellin' at him, we probably wouldn't never have gotten the better of him."

"Hmm."  Bulba's single organic eye grew distant.  "Virtually indestructible. . . .  Gentlemen, we have a change of plans.  We must capture this Gizmoduck."

"But boss, what about the bank robberies?" Hammerhead asked, rather disappointed.  Robbing banks was one of his favorite past times.

"We will not need any additional funds," Bulba announced.  "Not when we can get all the parts I need. . . for free."

"Where you gonna get those?" Mouth piped up.  "You want us to rob a garage?"

"No, you moron," Hammerhead growled.  "He wants to strip _Gizmoduck_ for parts.  Uh, right, boss?"

"Astute as always, Hammerhead."  The bull rubbed his hand-like apparatus against the claw on the end of his other arm.  "Go find this Gizmoduck-- he may still be in St. Canard.  Once you locate him, follow him until you discover where he is staying, then call me.  I will deal with him myself once he is off his guard."

"But boss. . . how we gonna find him?" Hammerhead protested.  "He could be anywhere in the city!"  
  
Bulba shrugged.  "The same way you find any selfless do-gooder.  Go to where there are people in need of saving."

"What if there ain't no people who need savin'?"

Bulba smiled slowly.  "Give them something to be saved from."

\--

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Steelbeak groaned as he pulled his car up to the trailer park in Duckburg where Fenton Crackshell was purported to live.

"Aww geez, I gotta actually go in one a' t'ese tin cans?" he muttered.  "I feel my IQ droppin' by the minute."

He got out of the car, followed by three Eggmen: Norton, the largest and dumbest of the crew; Edgar, the shortest and smartest (which wasn't saying a heck of a lot, really); and Leonard, who was somewhere in the middle on both counts.  Steelbeak checked the address he had written down, then he sauntered up to the designated trailer, smoothing his comb.  
  
"Here goes nothin'," he commented to the goons behind him as he knocked on the door.

It was answered by an older woman in a bathrobe, slippers, and a mass of hair curlers.  "Whaddya want?" she growled, then she looked Steelbeak up and down.  "Can I help you?" she amended much more sweetly as she ogled him.  Norton chuckled and nudged Edgar.

"Yes, uh, ma'am, I'm lookin' for a Mr. Fenton Crackshell," Steelbeak stammered, wishing he were anywhere but there.  He didn't like the rather predatory look on the old gal's face.

"Whaddya wanna see _him_ for?" she said, souring again.

_Yowch, whoever she is, he ain't on her good side,_ Steelbeak thought. _She his wife?  High Command said he looked young. . . but there ain't no accounting for taste sometimes._

"We're from, uh. . . t'at sweepstakes place," Steelbeak said with as much charm as he could muster.  "Ya know, the one wit' all the magazines.  Mr. Crackshell's won our grand prize-- ten million dollars!"

" _Ten million_?"  The woman brightened considerably, then looked around more suspiciously.  "So where's the giant check?  And the cameras?"

"Uh, we always make sure the winner's around 'fore we trot out all the bells and whistles," Steelbeak said impatiently.  "So is he in?"

"Nah, he's gone to St. Canard."

"St. Canard?" Steelbeak squawked.

"Yeah, but you could always just give the check to me, handsome," she crooned.  "I'm his mother."

Well, at least she wasn't his wife.  "No, we can only give it to the winner himself, ah ah ah ah ah," Steelbeak said nervously, already starting to back down the steps.  "You know when he'll be back?"

She shrugged.  "He was supposed to come back this evening, but he just called and said he ran into some friend of his, so he's spending the night."  She leaned forward and added, "You know, you _could_ just wait on him."

Steelbeak winced.  "T-t'at's quite all right.  We'll come back anot'er time."  He hurried down the last step and made his way towards the car as fast as he could without actually running, the Eggmen close behind him.  "Let's get outta here," he growled to them.

Once they were safely away from the trailer park, Steelbeak called High Command.  "Crackshell ain't here," he grumbled.  "His crazy mother said he's in St. Canard, so I came all this way for nuttin'!"

"Not for nothing," corrected Commander Aquila.  "Remember that you still have to find Gyro Gearloose.  Do so as quickly as possible, then return to St. Canard.  We will begin searching for Crackshell here in the meantime."

"Yeah, yeah, fine.  Steelbeak out."

Once the rooster had disconnected, Aquila sighed and took off his officer's cap to rub his forehead.  "We could have already had Crackshell by now, if we had known he was here."

"Make Belle find him," Beau grumbled.  "This whole plan was her idea anyway.  Why are _we_ the ones giving orders to Steelbeak, while she hides in her office?"

"Because he responds better to Commander Aquila's orders than to mine," Belle herself said from the doorway of the conference room.  She stalked in, glaring at her brother.  "He doesn't like being commanded by a woman."

"Oh?  And since when do we take what our agents 'like' into consideration when giving them their orders?" Beau snarled.

"Normally I'd be more than happy to annoy Agent Steelbeak with my presence," Belle said coldly as she took her seat at the desk, "but this mission is too important to jeopardize by alienating our only available agent.  We need him to work as efficiently as possible."

"But Agent Beakford does have a point," Aquila said to Belle dispassionately.  "This _is_ your mission.  As confusing as it is to our operatives to have the ordering commander change mid-assignment, I would prefer that you take over communications.  We've already had an upset to the plan, and I'm not prepared to guess how you would wish it to be handled."

"What upset?" Belle asked sharply.

"Crackshell isn't in Duckburg-- he's here, in St. Canard."  Aquila put his hat back on and straightened it.  "Steelbeak is going to return as soon as he finds Gearloose, but he can't possibly make it back for a couple of hours.  And with all our other agents out of commission, we'll have to rely on the Eggmen to find Crackshell and keep him in sight until Steelbeak arrives."

"Damn," Belle breathed.   She raked her fingers through her head feathers, then pushed her chair away from the desk and stood.  "I'll start checking the news reports for Gizmoduck sightings, then put the Eggmen on the search."  She added reluctantly, "And if you want me to start communicating with Steelbeak, fine.  Let me know when he arrives with Gearloose, and I'll go deal with him."

She returned to her office and started scanning newsfeeds on her computer in search of information on Gizmoduck.  Almost immediately, she found a report that Gizmoduck, along with Darkwing Duck, had attempted to stop a robbery at the First Bank of St. Canard.

" _Damn!_ " she swore again, pounding her fist on the desk.  "How did I miss that?"

"I dunno, but you _have_ seemed rather distracted lately."  Belle jumped and turned to glare at her brother, who was leaning in her doorway.  "You're so busy avoiding a particular agent, you aren't doing your job."

Belle turned back to her computer, fuming.  "You heard what I told Aquila.  It's for the good of F.O.W.L."

"And I don't believe that for a second."  Beau leaned forward and jabbed a finger at her.  "You just don't want to talk to him, and you're using F.O.W.L. as an excuse.  Why're you avoiding him?"

"What does it matter to _you_?"  Belle spun back to face him again, then jumped to her feet.  "I told Aquila I'd take over the communication for the mission, so what more do you want?"

"I want to be sure _you're_ going to continue to behave professionally. . . _sis_ ," Beau leered.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Only that I spent the first eighteen years of my life in the same house with you, and I know what it means when you avoid a man.  You want him, don't you?"

"I do _not_!" Belle growled.  "If that were true, why would I avoid him?"

"Same reason you always avoided guys you liked-- because you're afraid that if you're around them, everyone will notice, and realize that you're not such an ice princess after all.  Or else, you already propositioned him, and he turned you down.  Is _that_ it?"  Beau raised an eyebrow.

"If you knew me as well as you think you do," snarled Belle, "you'd know I would never 'proposition' a coworker, much less a subordinate."

"So for all your claims to enlightened feminism, you're still waiting for the man to make the first move, hunh?"

Belle narrowed her eyes.  "You always did love to twist everything I say.  Get out of my office.  I have work to do."

"Fine, fine." Beau held his hands up in mock submission and moved out of the doorway.  "But just keep something in mind."

"And what's that?"

Beau made a derisive noise.  "A guy like him would _never_ go for you."

After he was gone, Belle clenched her fingers over her keyboard, not even seeing the screen in front of her.  She wouldn't have been so furious if Beau hadn't been right, on all accounts.

_I don't have time to be angry about it now,_ she thought, picking up one of the video phones High Command used to communicate with the Eggmen.  _We're so close to getting a Gizmosuit-- this is no time for my lack of a personal life to get in the way._

As soon as one of the Eggmen answered her call, Belle ordered, "Crackshell is somewhere in St. Canard.  Spread out and start looking for him, but if you find him as Gizmoduck, report to High Command and follow him secretly until he takes the suit off.  You don't stand a chance against him in the suit. "

"Yes, ma'am," the Eggman saluted.

"Now we just have to sit back and wait," Belle muttered after she hung up.  And waiting was not what she did best.

\--

Darkwing Duck returned home early that evening, empty handed.

"How can three inept goons like them just disappear?" he grumbled as he paced back and forth in his living room, once he had changed out of his costume and become Drake Mallard once more.  Launchpad and Gosalyn were sitting on the couch watching a rerun of _Pelican's Island_.

"Dad, can you pace somewhere else?" Gosalyn griped.  "You're blocking the view!"

"This is more important!" Drake growled, switching off the TV.

"But Drake!  They might make it off the island this time!" Launchpad protested.

"You've seen this episode ten times already!" Drake exploded, waving his arms in the air.  "They'll never make it off the stupid island!  And we'll never catch these stupid criminals if you sit around rotting what's left of your brain on television!"

"Geez, sorry," Launchpad muttered.  He leaned back and folded his arms as Gosalyn rolled her eyes.

"Why d'you always get in a bad mood when Gizmoduck shows up, Dad?"

"Because he _gets in the way_!  I would have nabbed Bulba's boys if he hadn't come waltzing in and distracted me!"  Drake sighed.  "At least I can make some headway on the case now that he's gone back to Duckburg."

"Uh. . . but he _hasn't_ gone back to Duckburg," Launchpad revealed hesitantly.  "Like he said at the bank, he's gonna stick around St. Canard and look for Bulba."

"No," Drake groaned.  "I didn't think he was _serious_.  Where's he staying?"

"Well, Fenton's at the St. Canard Arms hotel. . . but. . . I have the Gizmosuit here," Launchpad admitted.  
  
"Whoa, the Gizmosuit is _here_?  Keen gear!" Gosalyn cried.  "Can I play with it?"

"Sorry, Gos, I promised Fenton that I wouldn't let anyone touch it," Launchpad told her.

"Are _you_ gonna wear it?" she asked hopefully.

"No way!  If it turns out that somebody needs Gizmoduck, Fenton's gonna come over and get the suit.  Otherwise, _no one's_ gonna wear it."

"Awww, rats," Gosalyn sighed.

"Why did he give you the suit anyway?" Drake asked.

"He said he's worried about someone figuring out who he is and stealing the suit."

"Why would he worry about that?"  Gosalyn made a face.  "We're the only people in St. Canard who know his secret identity, and we're the ones he gave the suit to!"

"Erm, well. . . ." Launchpad stammered.  Fenton had made him swear that he wouldn't tell Darkwing that someone had seen Gizmoduck's face _and_ stolen his helmet, a replacement for which had been provided by Gyro.  "He's just, uh, overly cautious."

Gosalyn gave him a funny look, but Drake apparently either bought the excuse or just didn't care, for his expression brightened.  "This is excellent!" he exclaimed.  "If the suit's here, that means that Gizmoduck can't get in my way while I search for Bulba and his gang!"

"But if we find Bulba, we'll need Gizmoduck," Launchpad pointed out.  "Remember what happened last time we tried to fight him?"

"Yeah, I think an indestructible cyborg might come in handy!" Gosalyn grinned, rubbing her hands together.

"He is _not_ a cyborg; he's just an overgrown Junior Woodchuck in titanium underwear!" Drake snapped.

"He's also my friend," Launchpad said sternly, giving Drake a rare cross look.  "You're _both_ my friends, and I'm gettin' pretty tired of you two always goin' at each other's throats."

Drake sighed and sat down with the rest of his small family on the sofa.  "I'm sorry, L.P.," he said as he put his hand on Launchpad's shoulder.  "I tend to forget that you knew him first.  I'll. . . I'll try to be nicer to him," Drake muttered with obvious effort.  "At least a little."

Launchpad grinned.  "Thanks.  I _told_ him you really were a nice guy."

" _Sometimes_ ," Gosalyn grumbled.  "Only when he's not yelling at me to clean my room or do my homework."

"Just don't let Taurus Bulba hear about this 'nice guy' stuff," Drake said with a half-hearted chuckle.  "Got to keep him running scared, you know. . . eheh."

"Aw, don't worry, Dad!" Gosalyn assured him.  "Once you track him down, you and Gizmoduck'll pound him into hamburger and scrap metal!"  She pounded one small fist in her hand.

"Of course we will, Gos," Drake told her.  "Now go get ready for bed-- you've got school tomorrow, remember?"

"Like I could ever forget," she grumbled.  She hugged Drake and Launchpad good night, then trudged up to her room with the attitude of a condemned prisoner.  Once she was gone, Drake's cheerful expression faded, and he sighed heavily.

"I hope she's right.  If Bulba is as strong as before, he'll probably be the one doing the pounding-- especially if he has Hammerhead's gang to help out."

Launchpad felt his own spirits sink a little.  Usually Drake was so confident (or _over_ confident in some cases) about his ability to subdue whatever bad guy was plaguing St. Canard at the moment.  To see him actually worried about facing an adversary disturbed Launchpad. . . even scared him a little.

"Of course she's right, Drake," Launchpad said aloud, hoping he sounded more optimistic than he felt.  "Bulba doesn't stand a chance."

\--

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Gyro Gearloose did not live in a trailer, but Steelbeak wasn't overly impressed with his small house.  The building was humble except for assorted extensions made of various gadgets, including a giant satellite dish, that Steelbeak found exceedingly tacky.

"Don't anyone have any taste in t'is city?" he muttered as he pulled up on the street just outside the driveway.

"I dunno, boss.  I t'ink it's gotta certain charm to it," Norton said admiringly.

"Shaddup, Norton," growled Edgar.  He was seated in the passenger seat of the car, and he turned to Steelbeak with a questioning look.  "What's da plan, boss?  Go in and grab 'im as usual?"

"No!" Steelbeak squawked.  "He's an inventor-- he probably has all kinda dangerous gadgets in t'ere!  We gotta do t'is the hard way."  He jabbed a finger at Edgar.  "Go sneak up there and listen in at the window-- see what he's up to."

" _You_ t'ink dat's da hard way?" Edgar asked dismally.  "Whaddabout _me_?"

"Just do it," Steelbeak snarled.  "It ain't gonna be as dangerous as _disobeyin' an order_."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Edgar said hastily, scrambling out of the car.  The short Eggman crept up to the house and crouched under one window.   Steelbeak could see a tall, thin figure pass by it several times, but apparently nothing much was happening; Edgar just made a shrugging gesture back at the car and continued to eavesdrop.  After nearly an hour, when Steelbeak was beginning to get fed up with the whole ordeal, Edgar finally staggered away from the window on legs that were apparently asleep.  He darted back down the driveway to the car.

"He's on da phone now, callin' a cab," he panted.  "I gotta peek in da window-- he's gotta suitcase.  Must be goin' somewhere."

"Oh, he's gonna go somewhere all right," Steelbeak grinned.  "T'is is gonna be easier t'an I t'ought."

He waited a moment, then revved his engine and pulled up into Gearloose's driveway, honking the horn.  An instant later, the inventor emerged from his house with the suitcase Edgar had seen, looking a bit surprised.  He was a tall and lanky chicken, with wild red hair and terrible fashion sense-- Steelbeak mentally termed it "nerd meets country bumpkin."

"Uh, can I help you?" Gearloose called.

Steelbeak stuck his head out the window.  "You call a cab?"

"Oh. . . well, yes I did!" Gearloose replied brightly.  He locked the door to his house, then he picked up his suitcase and walked over to the car.  "Wow, what service!  I just called a minute ago!"

"We pride ourselves on our quick response," Steelbeak said as he motioned surreptitiously for Norton to get out of the car.  "I gotta few other. . . passengers, ah ah ah ah, but you can just hop in between 'em."

"All right."  Gearloose was apparently a trusting soul, for he slid into the back seat without hesitation.  Norton climbed back in, leaving the inventor between himself and Leonard.

"And away we go," Steelbeak murmured as he threw the car into drive and peeled out onto the road.

"H-hey, don't you need to know where I want to go?" Gearloose asked after a moment.  Steelbeak glanced at him in the rearview mirror in time to see the inventor lean towards the door, only to have Norton shove him back into his seat with a chuckle.

"Actually," Steelbeak crooned, meeting Gearloose's frightened eyes in the mirror, "no, I don't."

\--

It turned out that Gearloose had wanted to go to the Duckburg airport, as he insisted several times before Leonard finally gagged him.  Either the kook didn't understand that he was being kidnapped, or he thought that Steelbeak would change his mind if Gearloose explained enough times that he was expected at an inventor's convention, and that he was going to miss his flight if they didn't make it to the airport soon.  Judging from the scared expression on his face, Steelbeak guessed that the latter was the case.

Leonard blindfolded Gearloose once they reached St. Canard, announcing that this way, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone the directions to F.O.W.L. headquarters.  Leonard always did have a flair for theatrical touches, and Steelbeak let him have his fun.  The rooster doubted, though, that Gearloose would ever get the _chance_ to leak the directions to anyone.  

It was almost dark by the time Steelbeak parked his car in his assigned parking space-- the one reserved for F.O.W.L.'s top agent, of course-- and gestured for the Eggmen to get Gearloose out of the car.  After much stumbling thanks to the blindfold, they finally got the befuddled inventor into the building, where Steelbeak insisted that Leonard remove the blindfold before Gearloose tripped and broke something.

Gearloose seemed fascinated by the array of microphones, cameras, and other monitoring devices that lined the halls.  He didn't even look frightened anymore, only intrigued as Steelbeak led him to High Command's conference room with the Eggmen following close behind.  Three of the four commanders were seated at their large desk.

"Wow!" Gearloose breathed, craning his neck to look at the large two-way video screen High Command used to communicate with F.O.W.L.'s agents.  "You have a great set-up here!"

"Mr. Gearloose, I presume?" Commander Beakford-- the female one, Steelbeak noted-- asked tersely.

"Yes, that's me."  Gearloose adjusted his glasses and peered at her, Aquila, and Chogan.  "Who _are_ you people?"

"Welcome to the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny," declared Commander Beakford.

"'Fiendish'?  Did you change your name?" Gearloose asked, blinking.

"Erm. . . what?"  Commander Beakford gave him a puzzled look that made Steelbeak snicker.  It was always amusing to see her discomfited.

"I thought you were the _Foreign_ Organization for World Larceny," Gearloose explained.

"Oh, that.  We changed the name a few years ago when-- how did you know that?" she interrupted herself, giving him a sharp look.

"Oh, erm. . . n-no reason.  Lucky guess," stammered Gearloose.

Commander Beakford narrowed her eyes slightly and studied him a moment; it made Steelbeak nervous just thinking about having that intense glare turned on _him_.  She looked like she was about to eat Gearloose for breakfast.

However, she only continued where she had left off.  "We need your. . . assistance, Mr. Gearloose."

"Certainly not!" the inventor declared, folding his arms.  "I'd never work for _you_.  . . .  Even if you do have some neat equipment."

"You haven't heard our offer yet," Commander Beakford purred, lowering her already husky voice slightly-- and at the same time gesturing at Norton and Leonard, who grasped each of Gearloose's arms roughly.  "We know that you created the Gizmosuit for Scrooge McDuck two years ago.  We need you to create a second suit-- for us."

"Nev--  I-I mean, I can't," Gearloose amended as the Eggmen tightened their grip.  "It can't be duplicated!  I destroyed the plans after I made the first one."

Commander Beakford's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward.  Steelbeak knew from much past experience that she was reaching the end of her admittedly short rope.  "That's a lie.  You've made a second helmet for Gizmoduck just in the past week!"

Gearloose stared at her.  "How do you know that?"

"How do _you_ think he lost the first helmet?" Commander Beakford returned.  "Our scientists have been analyzing it.  We've determined its composition and have gathered all the materials you will need to build a second suit."

"I don't have the plans with me!" Gearloose protested.  "They're back at my house."

Steelbeak saw Commander Beakford's small fist clench in frustration, and he smirked.  Time to earn brownie points from the bosses.  "Are you sure about t'at?" he asked Gearloose smugly.  "Here you're goin' off to a big inventors' convention, and you leave the plans for your greatest invention behind?"

Gearloose's face fell as Steelbeak sauntered over to Edgar, who had lugged in Gearloose's ramshackle suitcase.  Steelbeak snatched it up from the short Eggman and flung it onto High Command's desk, making the three commanders jump.

"Lessee here," Steelbeak crooned as he opened the suitcase and began rifling through the papers he found inside under a pile of clothes as tacky as the ones Gearloose was wearing.  "We got blueprints for a four-dimensional cube. . . plans for a self-replicatin' robot. . . spec sheet for a spaceship powered by an improbability drive. . . .  Here we go!"  He whipped out one sheet and slapped it down on the table in front of Commander Beakford.  "T'is what you're after, babe?"

She snatched up the paper and studied it.  " _Yes_ \-- the instructions for the construction of the Gizmosuit!"

"No," breathed Gearloose miserably.  He slumped between the two Eggmen.

"So, we don't need _him_ no more, do we, ah ah ah ah ah?" Steelbeak suggested, leaning against High Command's desk. . . until a hard look from Commander Aquila made him straighten up hastily.

"Ooh, do we gets to kill 'im?" Norton asked hopefully.

"No!" Commander Beakford snapped, laying down the plans and folding her hands deliberately as she regarded Gearloose.  "These plans are complicated and hardly legible, Mr. Gearloose.  Our scientists _could_ decipher them-- but this will be much simpler if you assist us.  Simpler for _everyone_ involved, including yourself," she added significantly.  "You'll find that F.O.W.L. pays its employees _quite_ well, much more than you'd ever get from that skinflint McDuck."

"I'm not interested in your money," Gearloose said loftily.  "I know you want to use the suit for something bad, so I won't build it for you!"

"They'll even give ya a new wardrobe," Steelbeak cajoled, but the inventor just shook his head.

Commander Beakford make a low growling noise in her throat, then she gestured sharply at Norton and Leonard.  "Take him to the cell we've prepared, then join the other Eggmen in the search for Fenton Crackshell."

"Fenton?" Gearloose gasped as the Eggmen were preparing to drag him away.  "What do you want with _him_?"

The side of Commander Beakford's bill curved in a slight smile.  "We need our own Gizmosuit to eliminate Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck-- but half of that problem will already be solved if we have Gizmoduck's alter ego, with or without his suit."  The horrified look on Gearloose's face grew-- and so did the satisfied look on Commander Beakford's.  "Besides, perhaps you will be more. . . amenable to our request once we have your friend."

"You. . . you won't get him!  He's smarter than that!" Gearloose protested, rather desperately Steelbeak thought.

"Oh?  If he's so intelligent, how did F.O.W.L. end up with his helmet?"  Commander Beakford stood and leaned forward over the desk, though she didn't reach very far considering her short stature.  "And Mr. Gearloose?"

"Wh-what?"

"Something for you to keep in mind," she hissed.  "I do _not_ appreciate being lied to."  She sat back and motioned again with her hand.  "Take him away!"

"I didn't think he would agree," Commander Aquila murmured when Gearloose and the Eggmen were gone.

"He will, though, once we have Crackshell." Commander Beakford assured him.  "Gearloose is weak;  he'll give in."

"Well, looks like my work here is done," Steelbeak crowed, straightening his suit.  "I'll just be headin' home--"

"Where you'll be heading is out to look for Crackshell," Commander Beakford snapped.  "In case you've forgotten, that's part of your assignment."

Steelbeak stared at her.  "But I been workin' all day!"

"Ordinarily, we'd let another agent take the night shift. . . but all of our other agents seem to be _indisposed_ at the moment," she growled.  "Since you were _so_ eager to take this assignment, you can see it through."

"I didn't have nuttin' to do wit' t'at!" Steelbeak protested.  To his dismay, the commander turned on him the very stare he had seen directed at Gearloose a few moments ago.

"Remember what I told Gearloose about lying to me?"  She shoved her chair back from her desk and stood.  "You're dismissed-- now get to work!"

She stalked out of the room, leaving Steelbeak gaping in helpless fury.  "She-- she can't do t'at!  T'at's gotta be against some kinda labor laws!"

Commander Aquila glanced at him as he stood as well.  "If you'd like to complain, I'm sure the authorities will be happy to see you, Agent Steelbeak.  Until then, you have your assignment."

"But--"

"If you have a problem with Commander Beakford's orders, I believe she was going to her office.  You can take up the issue with her," Aquila interrupted him coolly.

Steelbeak turned to the door with a glower.  "Oh, you can bet I will."

\--

Belle had just started scanning the headlines again for more Gizmoduck sightings when someone pounded on her office door.

"Come in," she muttered.  Usually Beau was the only person who bothered her in her office, and she had thought he'd gone home for the evening.  Still, it would be just like him to come back to work specifically to bug her about something.

It wasn't Beau.

"I t'ink," Agent Steelbeak announced as he flung upon the door and glared down at her, "t'at we need to have a little chat."

Belle slammed her laptop shut and jumped to her feet with a snarl.  "What are you wasting time for?  You've got to find Crackshell _tonight_ \-- he could be returning to Duckburg first thing in the morning!"

"I dunno about t'at-- you ain't seen his ma.  If I was him, I'd wanna stay outta town as long as possible, ah ah ah ah ah."  Steelbeak leaned against the wall next to the door of Belle's small office and folded his arms.

Belle had to make a conscious effort to speak with at least a modicum of calmness.  "Why do you keep insisting on ignoring my orders?  It's understandable that you're scared of Gizmoduck, but--"

"Oh great, not the whole coward t'ing again," Steelbeak interrupted, rolling his eyes before jabbing a finger at her.  "You're damn straight I'm scared of Gizmoduck, and you would be too if youse guys ever actually put yourselves in any danger!"

Belle stared up at him, infuriated.  "You-- I should have you demoted for saying that!"

"Yeah, but you won't."  He looked away from her and glanced belligerently at a blank spot on the wall across from him as he muttered, "You don't t'row your weight around like the rest of High Command."

"I could have you demoted for saying that too.  You should hope no one else heard you."  Belle hesitated then reluctantly shut the door.  As much as she didn't want to be alone with him, she also didn't want Aquila or Chogan overhearing him.

"All of youse need to lighten up," Steelbeak went on, watching her again.  "Have some fun every once in a while.  Take me, f'rinstance.  I _enjoy_ my work."

"Hmph.  So do I."  Belle wanted to sit down again, but she was already a good foot shorter than he was when she stood up, which didn't help her authority any.  She ended up standing with her back to the wall opposite him.

"Oh really?  T'en how come you never smile?" Steelbeak countered.

"I don't _like_ smiling."

"Well, maybe you should try it some time.  You wouldn't be _lieve_ how t'erapeutic a good evil laugh is every once in a while, ah ah ah ah ah ah."  
  
"Then with _that_ laugh, you should be most well-adjusted agent in F.O.W.L.," Belle snapped.

"And with _t'ose_ teeth, it's no wonder you never smile!" he shot back.  Furious, Belle took a step forward to let him have it, but he beat her to it.  "Look, I gotta take a lotta t'ings from High Command, but personal remarks ain't one of 'em!  I knew the job was 24/7 when I took it, and I may have to put up wit' you makin' me work all day and night-- but not wit' you standin' around insultin' me!"

Belle clenched her fists at her sides, all the more angry because she knew he was right.  "You're the one who wanted to talk, not me," she muttered, stalking back to the door with half a mind to shove him out of it.

"Hey, wait, wait."  Steelbeak actually put his hands on her arms and stopped her from opening the door.  Belle froze immediately, painfully aware of how close he was standing to her.  "Wow, you're in a worse mood t'an your brother when F.O.W.L.'s gettin' low on cash.  Look, I, uh. . . t'at ain't what I wanted to talk about."

Belle jerked her arms in his grasp.  "Let go!"

"Okay, fine."  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, then returned to his spot against the wall.  "But just so's you know, I'm gettin' tired of t'is."

"You started it!" Belle snarled.  "You invited yourself in!"

"I don't mean _t'at_.  I mean. . . you an' me pretendin' t'at t'ere ain't nothin' goin' on here.  You been avoidin' me ever since t'at hostage fiasco."  Steelbeak leaned forward and looked down at her.  "An' here I been goin' outta my way to succeed on t'is mission of yours."

"Well, you certainly haven't made much headway--"  She broke off and narrowed her eyes.  "Out of your way, hmm?  Does that include breaking the legs of F.O.W.L.'s other agents?"

"Hey, t'at wasn't me," Steelbeak smirked.  "Now if the Eggmen got a little carried away on an all-night bender or somet'in', t'at ain't _my_ fault."

"If you wanted on the mission, you could have just asked," Belle growled.

"You wouldn't've given it to me.  You t'ink I'm a coward, remember?"  He glowered back at her and took a step closer so that he was no more than a foot away from her.  "So I do all t'is to prove to ya t'at I'm _not_ a coward, and it don't do any good!  _T'at's_ what I'm tired of-- nuttin' I do is good enough for you!"

  _That's why he made sure he was the only agent who could take this assignment_ , Belle thought blankly, looking down to avoid his eyes.  _He was proving himself. . . to me._ Aloud, she said slowly, "I'm. . . sorry if I haven't shown you enough appreciation.  High Command does value your work."

"I ain't talkin' about High Command."  Steelbeak put a fingertip under Belle's beak and tilted her head back, making her look at him.

"Stop that," she growled, jerking her beak away.  The gesture was entirely too clichéd.

"So you know what _I'm_ tryin' to prove," he went on, ignoring her.  "What's up wit' _you_?"

"I'm not trying to prove anything-- I don't _have_ to prove anything!  I'm--"

"Yeah, yeah, you're High Command," Steelbeak sighed.  "You're also the most difficult woman I've ever had the misfortune of meetin'.  So since _you_ won't admit it, I'll tell ya-- you're tryin' to prove you don't like me.  Am I right?"

Belle finally saw an easy way out of the discussion.  "Yes.  But it's nothing personal."

"Oh, it's _everyt'in'_ personal, babe, 'cos I don't believe it for a minute.  You're tryin' too hard.  So's why don't we quit pretendin'  we hate each other, hunh?"

Belle just looked at Steelbeak for a moment without any idea of what to say to him.  Finally, she did what she had done with difficult conversations all her life: changed the subject.

"You can go home," she murmured, opening the door then going back to her desk.  "The Eggmen can look for Gizmoduck tonight.  I'll contact you if they find him."

Steelbeak was silent as she sat down again, refusing to look at him.  Finally he said with a sigh, "Yeah.  T'anks."  She heard him start for the door, then he asked, "You'll contact me?  You mean you're gonna be here all night?"

"I'm staying here until Gizmoduck is found," Belle replied, still turned away from him as she opened up her laptop.  "Where else would I be?"

"Where else indeed," he muttered.  "Night. . . High Command."

After he was gone, closing the door behind him, Belle rubbed a hand across her eyes.  _What the hell was that all about?_ she wondered.  _He must want something_. _Probably a raise.  And he probably thinks he'll get it after the way I let him go home instead of looking for Gizmoduck.  Beau was right to worry about me behaving professionally-- next thing you know, I'll be giving him extra paid vacation._

\--

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Hammerhead growled to his two cohorts.  The three barnyard goons were standing on  a patch of grass at the edge of the city park, next to a sign with "Keep Off The Grass" scrawled messily on it with red paint.  The first S in "grass" was backwards.

Hoof nodded emphatically as Mouth replied, "Of course it will!  You _always_ get in trouble for disobeying a sign! "

"But you think dis Gizmoduck character's gonna care dat we're standin' on the grass?"

"From what Miss Clovis said, it'll drive him crazy!" Mouth assured him.  "He's real big on following the rules, even more than Darkwing Duck."  The short ram looked up and down the almost deserted street, his shoulders slumping.  "If there was just someone around to tell him about it."

"Hey, here comes a couple cops," Hammerhead said after a minute, pointing.  "Maybe dey'll tell Gizmoduck we're here!"

The three quickly gathered around the sign, Hoof even leaning on one corner of it to make sure the policemen saw it.  The two canines in uniform walked by slowly, and the one closest to the goons gave them a strange look.  Mouth waved at him cheerfully.  The policeman nudged his partner who also stared at them, then the two quickened their pace a bit as they walked away.

"Aww, darn," Mouth sighed.  "They didn't even threaten to arrest us.  Maybe they'll still call Gizmoduck though."

Hammerhead whacked him on the head.  "Dis was a dumb idea altogether!  We shoulda listened to Bulba and just hurt somebody."  He glared at Hoof who had suddenly started jumping up and down and pointing.  "Would you can it?"

Mouth actually bothered to look where Hoof was pointing.  "It's him-- it's Gizmoduck!"

Hammerhead stopped berating them and looked too.  Sure enough, Gizmoduck was wheeling towards them at full tilt.  The superhero skidded to a stop a few feet away, panting slightly.

"A _ha_ , so those policemen were right!  Off that grass, you miscreants!" Gizmoduck declared as soon as he got his breath.  "You're destroying city property-- _and_ disobeying a sign!"

Hammerhead smiled slowly.  Apparently Mouth's stupid plan _had_ worked.  "Come over here and make us, tin man."  He folded his arms and leaned against the corner of the sign not occupied by Hoof.

"I can't do _that_ ," Gizmoduck protested.  "Then _I_ wouldn't be keeping off the grass!"

Mouth's face fell.  "Uh. . . I'm sure it would be okay, if you were doing it to arrest us!"

"Arrest you?"  Gizmoduck scratched his helmet.  "I'm not sure if walking on the grass is an _arrestable_ offence--"

"Of course it is!" Hammerhead snapped.  Now that they had Gizmoduck, Hammerhead wasn't about to let him get away on a technicality.  "The policemen was  reportin' us, wasn't dey?"

"Actually, they were talking about taking a donut break," Gizmoduck admitted.  "They said there wasn't any crime today, other than a bunch of weirdos standing around on the grass."

"Den dey're slackin' on da job!  Now come over here and arrest us-- or are you too scared?" Hammerhead sneered.

"I simply don't want to commit an offence by apprehending you, that's all!" Gizmoduck insisted.  "And why would I be scared of _you_ anyhow?  It's not like you're doing something _dangerous_ , like robbing a. . . ."  He trailed off and leaned toward them slightly, studying them.  "Robbing a. . . bank. . . .  That's it!  I _knew_ I'd seen you before-- you're Taurus Bulba's  boys, and you robbed the First Bank of St. Canard!"

"You're a regular Einstein," Hammerhead said sarcastically.  " _Now_ will you arrest us?"

Gizmoduck started towards them, then stopped just on the edge of the grass.  "This is some kind of trick, isn't it?"

"No, no!" Mouth said altogether too quickly.  "Of course not!"

"You're trying to make _me_ roll on the grass, aren't you?  Then you'll have _me_ arrested so you can have free reign of the city with no one to stop you!  Well I'm not falling for it!" Gizmoduck crowed.  "You can stand on that grass all you like, but I'm not coming to get you!"

"What?  Ya _moron_ , yer just gonna let us go?" Hammerhead exploded.

"No, I'm going straight to call Darkwing Duck; that's what I'm going to do!"  Gizmoduck started rolling away determinedly.  " _He_ can arrest you-- he certainly doesn't care about breaking any rules to get what he wants.  You three just wait right there!" he called over his shoulder.

Mouth slumped dejectedly and muttered, "He doesn't even _care_ that we robbed a bank."  Hoof gave a sigh of commiseration.

"Come on, ya lugs," Hammerhead growled in exasperation, dashing after Gizmoduck.  "We gotta follow him and wait for our chance to grab him!"  The other two goons ran after him.  None of them noticed a tall figure in yellow pants and red boots seated on a park bench across the street, apparently absorbed in a newspaper.  Two holes were punched through the eyes of a duck in a photo on the back page; the glare of a visor could be seen through them.

As soon as they passed, Norton lowered the newspaper he was holding up over the face of Edgar, who was seated on his shoulders.  "Where dey goin'?"

"After Gizmoduck, of course."  Edgar hopped down off the much larger Eggman's shoulders.  "C'mon.  We'll follow 'em and radio da boss once we find out where dat bucket a' bolts is off to."

"But Edgar," Norton panted as he jogged after his tiny partner.  "Why're dose guys after Gizmoduck too?  You t'ink dey want his suit?"

"Who cares!  You t'ink too much, Norton."

"T'anks," Norton said brightly.  "Ma always did say I was da smart one in da family."

\--

"I don't believe dis!" Hammerhead exclaimed from his hiding place behind one of the bushes along the side of the St. Canard Arms, where they had followed Gizmoduck.

"What?  Let me see!"  Mouth, who was hiding behind Hammerhead with Hoof, jumped up and down, trying to see what was going on.  All he could tell was that Hammerhead was staring through the leaves at the bush closest to theirs, behind which Gizmoduck had, well, ducked.

"He. . . he took da metal parts off!"  Hammerhead rubbed his horns in disbelief.  "Gizmoduck ain't nuttin' but a chump in a suit!"

Mouth finally resorted to ducking down and crawling between Hammerhead's feet to peer out around the trunk of the bush.  Sure enough, a dorky-looking duck in a jacket and tie was busily stuffing bits of Gizmoduck into a suitcase.  As soon as the duck picked up the suitcase and started for the hotel's entrance, the three goons sneaked after him.

"How are we going to find out what room he's in without him seeing us?  He'll put the suit back on and fight us if we don't surprise him," Mouth asked as Hammerhead hung back outside the hotel's front door after the duck went inside.

"Easy."  Hammerhead pulled a handgun out of his waistband and grinned.  "We ask da front desk."  
  
As they sidled in, Edgar stuck his head around a bush on the opposite side of the hotel from Hammerhead's.  "They've all gone inside."

"Who _are_ dose guys?" Norton asked, scratching his head even though his helmet was in the way.

"Beats me," Edgar muttered absently as he pulled out his videophone.

"But what if dey get to dat Crackshell guy 'fore we do?"

"I told ya, ya t'ink too much," Edgar snapped.  "Just lemme call da boss.  He'll be here with da other Eggmen 'fore dose guys can get away."  He punched some buttons on the phone and looked down at it as Steelbeak's image appeared on it.

"Yeah, whaddya want?"

"Boss, we found Crackshell," Edgar explained.  "He's in da St. Canard Arms."

Steelbeak smirked.  "Pal, you're a lifesaver.  Whatever you do, don't let him get away-- I'll be t'ere in a minute."

Meanwhile, inside the hotel Hammerhead was holding the lanky canine desk clerk at gun point while Mouth and Hoof stood on either side of a short, chubby porcine bell hop, pinning his arms behind him. "Either you tell me where dat duck wit' da funny hair went, or you'll be checkin' out-- permanently."

"H-he's in room 203," the clerk stammered.  "P-please, don't hurt me-- u-us," he amended quickly after he got a particularly nasty glare from the bellhop.

"Oh don't worry, we ain't gonna hurt ya 'long as you cooperate," Hammerhead said, though the clerk didn't seem to find the words very reassuring.  "Boys, let's put 'em in the baggage check."

The three dragged the hotel employees back into the small room and gagged them.  Hammerhead stood for a minute, looking down at them thoughtfully then turning his gaze to Hoof and Mouth.

"Ya know, if any guests come in 'fore I get dat duck, dey're gonna wonder why dere's no one on duty."  Hoof and Mouth looked at each other, then turned back to Hammerhead and nodded blankly.

"Uh, yeah. . . ?" Mouth prompted.

Hammerhead rolled his eyes and growled, "So put on da uniforms and act like ya work here, ya morons!"  Hoof gave a nervous bray and shook his head.  Hammerhead slapped himself on the forehead in irritation.  "Fine, fine, I'll wait out front while ya change.  Just make it quick!  I'm gonna call Bulba to come pick up Crackshell after I catch him. . . and ya _know_ he don't like to wait."

\--

"You _what_?"  Darkwing shouted so loudly, Fenton winced and held the phone away from his ear.  "You found Hammerhead Hannigan and his boys in the park, and you just _left_ them there?"

"I couldn't do anything!" Fenton protested.  "They were standing on the grass!  I knew _you_ wouldn't mind walking on it to arrest them, so--"  
  
"Tell Launchpad to meet me there," Darkwing growled.  "And you'd better hope they're dumb enough to stay there like you told them."  Before Fenton could respond, the line went dead.

"He said for you to meet him at the park," Fenton told Launchpad as he hung up the phone.  They were in his hotel room at the St. Canard Arms; the Gizmosuit, which Fenton had worn that morning to patrol the city, was already safely stowed in Fenton's suitcase, ready for Launchpad to return it to the Mallard residence.

"Maybe I'd better leave this here," Launchpad suggested, holding up the case.

"No, go on and take it.  Since we've found Bulba's goons, I won't need it for a while "  Fenton sat down on the edge of his bed.  "Darkwing can take it from here."

"You don't mean to tell me you're givin' up," Launchpad said sternly.

"Of course not!  But I did what I said I'd do-- and all I _can_ do.  Maybe Darkwing's right with this whole rebel superhero thing-- he can sure get things done that I can't."  Fenton sighed and went on a little more brightly, "I just want you to keep the Gizmosuit at your house until I go back to Duckburg, all right?"

"If you say so," Launchpad agreed reluctantly.  "I'll call ya later, okay?"

"Sure.   I'll see you."  Fenton kept up his cheerful demeanor until Launchpad was gone, then he dropped his beak in his hands.

"Nothing to do now but sit around and wait for Darkwing Duck to do what I _should_ be doing," he murmured.

\--

Norton and Edgar were still waiting outside of the St. Canard Arms when Steelbeak drove up in his green convertible with the Eggman named Leonard riding shotgun.  Steelbeak jumped out of the car and jogged over to them, leaving Leonard to follow.

"I hope youse's been watchin' the door," Steelbeak grumbled.  "If that Gizmodork got away--"

"No way, boss," Edgar assured him.  "Only guy who came out was some dumb lookin' redhead wit' a suitcase.  Didn't look nuttin' like Crackshell."

"Well, for once youse guys've done yer job," Steelbeak muttered as he started for the door.

"Edgar, should we tell him 'bout da guy who went _in_?" Norton asked his partner.

" _What_ guy who went in?" Steelbeak asked suspiciously.

Edgar gave Norton a dirty look.  "Well, uh. . . he was. . . ."  When Steelbeak took a threatening step towards him, Edgar stammered in a small voice, "I-it was Taurus Bulba."

"Taurus. . . Bulba."  Steelbeak's beak fell open.  "You let. . . Taurus _Bulba_ into t'at hotel wit' _Gizmoduck_?"  He ground his palm against his forehead, then reached down and picked up Edgar by the shoulders.  "You _moron_!  I'm gonna demote you!"

Edgar's lower beak trembled.  "N-no more frilly collar?"

"No more frilly collar."  Steelbeak let him drop abruptly and stalked back to the door.  "Come on, ya loads.  Ya'd better hope we get to Crackshell before Bulba does."

The three Eggmen followed Steelbeak into the hotel, gathering behind him at the desk where a very short ram wearing a clerk's uniform several sizes too big for him was sitting.  Norton bent down and nudged Edgar.

"Hey, does dat guy look familiar to you?"

"Shut up, Norton," Edgar grumbled.  "I'm not in da mood."

"Hey shorty, we're lookin' fer the room of one Fenton Crackshell," Steelbeak told the clerk.  "You got the number?"  
  
The little clerk squinted up at him curiously, then muttered, "Uh yeah, hold on just a minute. . . sir."  He fiddled with the computer on his desk a moment as Steelbeak leaned against the desk and tapped his fingers on it impatiently.  "It's. . . ."  He broke off and swallowed hard.  "It's 203."

"Great, t'anks."  Steelbeak turned and went to the elevator with the Eggmen in tow.

"Uh boss, why're we takin' the elevator?" Leonard asked as they rode upward to the sound of Muzak.  "It's just the second floor."

"I just got t'is suit back from the cleaners," Steelbeak sniffed.  "I can't be breakin' a sweat, now can I?  Besides, Bulba's probably too heavy to take the elevator.  If he went up the stairs, we can get a jump on him.  I hope," he added in a mutter.

When the elevator doors opened on the second floor, Steelbeak shoved the three Eggmen out ahead of him.  Peering over  Leonard's shoulder, Steelbeak looked around for Bulba.  The bull was nowhere to be seen, but he had been there recently, judging from the fact that the door to room 203 was lying on the floor in splinters.

"Uh, you boys go first," Steelbeak commanded, shoving at Leonard.  "You can distract Bulba while I grab Crackshell."  When he got no response from the Eggmen, he sighed, "Look, I'll take ya out for donuts after we take him to High Command."

The three Eggmen looked at one another, then whispered together in an impromptu conference.  "Pizza," Edgar finally demanded.

"Okay, okay, pizza."

Steelbeak hung back as the three Eggmen tiptoed towards the door, guns drawn.  Edgar gestured for the other two to wait, then he peered around the jamb, from which only a hands-breadth-wide piece of wood still hung.  Steelbeak gawked as, with lightning speed, a metallic claw darted out , grabbed Edgar by the head, and jerked him into the room with a squawk.

"Eggmen, retreat!" Steelbeak hissed, trying to speak in a low voice so that Bulba couldn't hear him.  Unfortunately, the Eggmen couldn't hear him either.  Norton and Leonard looked at each other, shrugged, and then stuck their heads around the doorway as well.  They of course met a similar fate, despite Norton's massive size.

"Hoo boy," Steelbeak breathed, slowly backing towards the elevator.  "M-maybe this ain't such a good idea--"

Before Steelbeak could reach the elevator doors, Taurus Bulba himself stepped out of the room dragging an unconscious Norton in his claw and Leonard in his mechanical hand.  He was followed by a bulky-- though not nearly as big as Bulba-- goat carrying Edgar's limp form over one shoulder.  However, Steelbeak's attention was not on the Eggmen, even as the two mammals threw them into a pile.  Instead, he stared at the miserable-looking duck the goat was shoving along in front of him by the means of a gun jabbed into the unfortunate avian's ribs.

"Crackshell," Steelbeak panted.

The duck looked up at him and glared.  "I suppose this was all _your_ idea!  I should have known F.O.W.L. was behind this--"

Bulba interrupted him with a long laugh.  "Oh, hardly.  As your friend Agent. . . Steelbeak, was it?. . . knows, Taurus Bulba does not work for F.O.W.L.  Not now, not ever.  No, my dear Gizmoduck, I'm afraid that if F.O.W.L. wants you, they are too late."

"But I'm not Gizmoduck!" Crackshell protested, squirming.

At the moment, Steelbeak wouldn't have cared if he was _Scrooge_ McDuck; his only thoughts were for his own safety.  He darted for the elevator, but with barely a turn of his head, Bulba shot a laser from one of the "horns" mounted on his helmet.  Steelbeak yelped and jumped aside as the beam decimated the elevator's controls.

"I _told_ the lab boys not to put t'em t'ings on t'ere," Steelbeak grumbled as he dashed for the stairs instead.  He had only clattered down the first few when the desk clerk appeared on the landing below, accompanied by a moronic-looking donkey in a bellhop's uniform that was far too short and wide for him.  Both of them had guns aimed at him.

"All right, so you are not Gizmoduck if you want to be technical about it," Bulba went on as if Steelbeak hadn't moved.  The bull turned to the goat and snatched Crackshell from him, holding him up by his shirt collar.  "You are only Gizmoduck when you have the suit-- and that is the only thing with which I am concerned.  Where is it?"

"I'll never tell _you_ ," Crackshell spat.  "Or you, for that matter," he added with another glare at Steelbeak.

Bulba sighed.  "I expected you might be. . . difficult.  No matter.  As my ever-efficient Clovis says, it is nothing to be upset over.  I have all the time in the world."  He reached down to the pile of Eggmen and scooped Norton up as if he weighed nothing.  Draping the large Eggman over his shoulder, he gestured towards his goons on the stairs.

"You three get the others."

"H-hey, wait a minute!" Steelbeak protested.  "Where are you takin' my Eggmen?  High Command's gonna t'row a fit!"

"Consider it a warning," Bulba suggested as the goons gathered up Edgar and Leonard.  "But do not think that I do not have a use for you too, Agent.  You can give a message to your precious High Command."

Steelbeak started to retort until he saw both of the horn-lasers aimed at his head.  "A-and what message is t'at?"

"Forget about the Gizmosuit," Bulba growled.  "It is mine.  If F.O.W.L. High Command does not wish to end up in the same position as. . . 'your' Eggmen, they will not get involved."

Steelbeak watched helplessly as the four descended the stairs, Bulba carrying Norton and the struggling Crackshell, the goat with Leonard over his shoulder, and the remaining two both tugging on Edgar, apparently in disagreement over who got to carry him.

"Aw, _man_."  Steelbeak slumped down on the floor and leaned against the wall.  He knew he should do something to stop Bulba-- but he also knew that Bulba probably wouldn't mind shooting the messenger, literally.  A dead Steelbeak would probably tell High Command to leave Bulba alone as efficiently as a live one.

"Speakin' of which," Steelbeak sighed as he pulled out his video phone and stared down at it.  "Might as well get it over wit'."  He reluctantly dialed High Command, although he wondered if death at Bulba's robotic hands might be less painful.

When the connection went through, only Commander Chogan was at High Command's conference desk.  "Ah, Steelbeak.  We didn't expect you to call so soon."

"Yeah, High Command, I uh, got a report."

"Excellent.  I'll fetch Commander Beakford."

"N-no, no, t'at won't be necessary, ah ah ah ah ah," Steelbeak stammered.  "Uh you can just give her a message--"

Chogan gave him a funny look.  "Stay on the line."

Steelbeak groaned and leaned back against the wall as Chogan left the desk.  A moment later his silhouette was replaced by Commander Beakford's.

"Yes, Agent Steelbeak?" she said brusquely.

"Ah, uh, High Command, hi," Steelbeak muttered.  "Wow, you look _great_ today, ah ah ah ah ah.  Did you do somet'in' new wit' your. . . uh, head?"

"What do you want?" Beakford growled.  "This had better be important."

"I got some good news," Steelbeak said as cheerfully as he could manage.  "I found Crackshell!"

"Wonderful.  And what's the bad news?"

"Bad news?  I didn't say nuttin' about _bad_ news, ah ah ah ah ah."

Beakford leaned forward and flashed her sharp teeth.  "Whenever anyone says he has good news, there's always bad news with it.  What.  Is.  It."

Steelbeak squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled in a rush, "Taurus Bulba kidnapped Crackshell and three Eggmen."

There was a long, terrible silence.  Steelbeak finally opened his eyes and peered fearfully at the display on his phone.  High Command's own eyes were lowered; she appeared to be staring down at her desk.

"Taurus Bulba," she finally said flatly.

"Yeah, h-he knows t'at Crackshell is Gizmoduck.  He didn't get the suit and Crackshell wouldn't tell him where it was, but--"

"But Crackshell _will_ tell him, I'm sure," Beakford interrupted.  "Which three Eggmen did he get?"

"Edgar, Leonard, and Norton."  Steelbeak paused.  "You know, uh, Small, Medium, and Large."

"Damn," the commander hissed.  "Edgar's our top Eggman, and Leonard will break if Bulba so much as raises a finger towards him.  We've got to find them."

Steelbeak was slowly beginning to hope that he wasn't going to get turned into chicken salad after all.  "You, uh, want I should go lookin' for 'em?"

"Are you still at the St. Canard Arms?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Uh, yeah. . . ."

"Stay there."  Beakford stood up.  "I'll be there in five minutes."

"Wh-what?" Steelbeak squawked.  "Y-you're--"

"If it took you this long to find Crackshell, you'll never find Bulba on your own," she snapped.  "I'm coming with you.  If you're not still at that hotel when I get there, you're going to wish Bulba had taken you instead of those Eggmen."

She disconnected abruptly, leaving Steelbeak to mutter, "I already do."

\--

Meanwhile, Darkwing Duck was standing next to the city park, looking up and down the street.

"I don't believe this," he growled to Launchpad.  "That moron just let Bulba's goons _get away_.  If they were even here in the first place."

"Whaddya mean, 'if they were here'?  Look, there's the sign."  Launchpad pointed to the "Keep Off the Grass" sign with its backwards "S."

"For all I know, your ol' buddy Fenton planted it here.  Although he must be dumber than I thought to spell 'grass' like that."

Launchpad squinted at the sign.  "What's wrong with how it's spelled?"

"I know what he's up to," snarled Darkwing, apparently gaining conviction.  "It's all a big ruse!  He lied to me to get me to rush over here to stop criminals who aren't even here-- so _he_ can go out and grab the _real_ criminals and get all the glory!"  He clenched his fists at his sides.  "I _hate_ being lied to."

"I dunno, D.W.," protested Launchpad.  "He was really upset.  I think he really did--"

"Launchpad, Launchpad, you are _far_ too naïve," Darkwing sighed.

"But I have the suit!"  Launchpad held up the suitcase.

"You _think_ you have the suit.  Did you see him put it in there?"

"Well, no--"

"And the suitcase is locked, so you can't exactly open it and check, now can you?"

"I still don't--"

"Face it, L.P., he probably lied to both of us."  Darkwing turned on his heel and stalked back to the Ratcatcher.  "Come on, we've got to get back to work looking for Bulba if we're going to find him before Mr. Lead Balloon does.  I'll swing by the house so you can drop that stupid suitcase off."

Launchpad sighed heavily and looked at the sign one last time, then scooped up the heavy suitcase and followed.

\--

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

When Belle entered the lobby of the St. Canard Arms, she found Steelbeak with a rumpled dog and pig seated behind the front desk.  They were surrounded by several miniature wine bottles of the type used to stock the mini-bars found in hotel rooms.  The dog and pig were wearing mismatched, ill-fitting clothes, and most of the wine bottles seemed to be empty.

"The manager's gonna kill us!" the dog was moaning.  "The elevator's broken, our uniforms were stolen, room 203's trashed, _and_ the door's broken clean off its hinges!"

"Yeah, well if you hadn't let us get tied up, this wouldn't've happened," grumbled the pig, who was wearing an outfit that was far too tight for him and looked like it had come straight out of the twenties.  "We're both gonna get fired."

"Youse guys think _you_ got it bad?" Steelbeak griped.  "When _my_ boss gets here, I'm gonna get sent down to Kentucky and   _fried_."

"Why bother?  You already sound toasted," Belle snapped.  Steelbeak jumped and looked at her guiltily for a second before regaining his composure.

"Hey, High Command, good one.  Ah ah ah ah ah!"  He stood and straightened his jacket and tie, then glanced down at his new friends.  "Well boys, I'll be seein' ya.  Maybe in the unemployment line," he added under his breath.

"I don't suppose you have any idea where Bulba could have gone," Belle said as she stalked back outside with the rooster following.

"He didn't exactly leave a callin' card," Steelbeak retorted.  "Just said to tell High Command t'at youse'd end up like the Eggmen if you kept after the Gizmosuit."

"Hmph."  Belle stopped outside the hotel and looked around.  ". . . where's your car?"

"T'ose bastards stole it, I'm guessin'," he growled.  "By the time I got out here, they was gone, and so was it.  S'pose they had to use it get all t'ose Eggmen to their hideout ."

Belle spotted something glistening in the parking lot and went to retrieve it.  "Damn," she sighed, holding up a metallic gizmo.  "I guess it was too much to hope that Bulba would leave the tracking device on it."

"The whattin' _what_?"  Steelbeak gawked at her.  "You had a trackin' device on my car?"

"F.O.W.L. regulations."  Belle opened the driver's door of her own car-- a gunmetal grey Prius-- and tossed the device into the backseat.  "Surely you aren't idiotic enough to think we don't track you, especially in a car _we_ provided.  I already tried to trace the Eggmen's phones, but there wasn't a signal-- Bulba must have destroyed them."

"T'at I can believe."  Steelbeak raked a hand over his comb and sauntered over to her car.  "Guess t'at means I'm ridin' wit' you in the Dull Greymobile."

"Just get in," growled Belle.

As she started the car, Steelbeak peered over his shoulder into the backseat.  "What're you doin' drivin' a hybrid?  I didn't have High Command pegged as greenies, ah ah ah ah ah."

"There's no point in ruling the world if we destroy it with carbon emissions first," Belle retorted.

Steelbeak raised an eyebrow.  "What about all t'ose plots to stop the Earth's rotation, or flood the desert, or--"

"That was different."

"Whatever, babe."  He leaned back in the passenger seat with his arms folded behind his head.

"Don't call me that!"  Belle clenched her hands over the steering wheel and tried to control her temper.  It was going to be a long afternoon.

\--

As Hammerhead Hannigan drove Steelbeak's garish green convertible away from the St. Canard Arms, Fenton Crackshell's heart sank lower with every block they passed.  He was sitting in the passenger seat, painfully conscious of the gun that lay casually across the goat's lap.  Hoof and Mouth were seated in the back, smashed up against either side door by the pile of still-unconscious Eggmen on the seat between them.  Taurus Bulba had found his own transportation to the hideout.  In fact, with his metal body that transformed into a miniature jet, he _was_ his own transportation.

_If I just hadn't given the Gizmosuit to Launchpad_ , Fenton thought miserably.  _Now it's sitting at Drake's house, and here I am, useless.  No one even knows where I am._   At first he had some small hope that despite Bulba's warning, Steelbeak would come looking for him; even if F.O.W.L. were after the Gizmosuit, Fenton had quickly decided that dealing with them was far preferable to dealing with a half-mad cyborg bull.  However, Bulba had had the foresight to search for and remove the tracking device on Steelbeak's car, and the route Hammerhead was taking was convoluted, leading deep into a run-down part of town.  
  
 _Even F.O.W.L. won't be able to find me, and no one else knows I'm gone._   Fenton dropped his head in his hands.  _Poor M'ma, she'll never know why I didn't come home.  And I'll never see Gandra again, or Launchpad. . . ._ He heard a faint groan from the back seat as Edgar began to stir.  _If he knew I was gone, he and Darkwing would be out looking for me.  If I could just contact him. . . ._

"Here we are."  Fenton looked up at the sound of Hammerhead's grimly satisfied voice.  The goat had stopped the car beside an underpass that led from the bad side of St. Canard out into the country.  Fenton was vaguely aware of where he was in relation to the rest of the city, but it didn't do him much good without any way to communicate his location to a potential rescuer.  Hammerhead picked up his gun, but before he could order Fenton out of the car, Taurus Bulba seemingly appeared out of nowhere, crashing down to the pavement with a force that cracked the ragged asphalt.  It took Fenton a moment to realize that he had actually jumped from the top of the tunnel, some twenty feet above.

"Welcome to my humble-- and I assure you, temporary-- abode, Mr. Crackshell," Bulba said with a half smile on what remained of his organic face.  He reached his claw arm into the front seat and plucked Fenton out as if he weighed no more than a duckling.  Bulba then snaked his mechanical hand into the back and slapped the three awakening Eggmen across their bills.  They slowly came to, staring up at Bulba fearfully when they realized where they were.

 "Out of the car," Bulba ordered, the smile completely gone.  When the Eggmen had climbed out along with Hoof and Mouth, the cyborg bull barked, "Hammerhead, dispose of the vehicle."

"Sure thing, boss."  As the goat started up the car and drove it through the underpass and out of the city, Bulba motioned the Eggmen to a ladder which led up the sheer cement wall to the tunnel's left.  Bulba himself climbed up after them with one hand, still dangling Fenton from his claw.  Hoof and Mouth followed, though they had difficulty climbing in the ill-fitting hotel uniforms they still wore.

The only feature of the flat, dirty surface over the tunnel was an open manhole.  Bulba shoved each of the Eggmen into it and held Fenton out over it before dropping him in.  Fenton winced at the impact, then scrambled out of the way just before Bulba lowered his own bulk into the hole, which was barely big enough to accommodate him.

Looking around, Fenton found himself in what seemed to be a kind of service area for the city maintenance workers, though it had been long abandoned.  The floor of the space they were in was curved sharply, apparently over the roof of the tunnel below.  The area was narrow but had a high ceiling and stretched for the length of the tunnel.  The top of another ladder was visible where the floor ended to Fenton's right; apparently it led downward into a separate space.

The area was damp and moldy, yet an array of what looked like computer parts and cybernetic equipment was piled up to one side.  A slender blonde cow was perched on an extremely out-of-place office chair next to the pile, busy sorting the collection.  She glanced up at the commotion as Hoof and Mouth scrambled down into the hideout after their boss.  Fenton shivered slightly at the detached expression she gave them.  She was quite beautiful, but she had a colder face than any other woman he'd seen.

"My dear Clovis, allow me to introduce you to. . . Gizmoduck," Bulba said to the cow facetiously, gesturing at Fenton.  " _Sans_ his suit, unfortunately.  However, that shall be remedied posthaste."   The cyborg turned to look down at Fenton.  "Now, Crackshell.  Where is the suit?"

"I already said, I won't tell you!" Fenton replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking.  He expected an angry, even furious response, but Bulba's reaction surprised him.

"Come, my boy," Bulba said calmly, almost jovially.  "Do consider your situation-- and mine.  F.O.W.L. wants the suit as well, and you know what sort of ridiculous plots they will try to carry out with it.  They will fail of course, just as they always do. . . but they _will_ use the suit for evil.  Whereas I, I merely want your suit to keep myself alive!  You see, those imbeciles with their quack scientists-- pardon the pun-- gave me a faulty body.  I only want the Gizmosuit to replace those damaged parts, not for any criminal reason."  He leaned over Fenton, forcing the much smaller duck to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact.  "Now, does it not make sense for you to turn it over to me now, before they obtain it and do something. . . foolish with it?"

"Maybe you wouldn't use the _suit_ to do something bad, but you're still a criminal!" Fenton retorted.  "So giving you the parts from the Gizmosuit would enable you to commit other crimes!  Even if I'm not Gizmoduck without it, I still can't enable illegal behavior!"

The calm mask Bulba wore slipped, and for a moment Fenton saw anger in his red eye.  The sight was terrifying.  However, the cyborg regulated his expression immediately.

"Surely you saw in the hotel what I am capable of, duck.  Do you really think it is wise to cross me?"

"I-I don't care," Fenton stammered.  "I won't tell you where the suit is, even if it means my life!  A-and if you kill me, you'll _never_ learn where it is!"

"Hmm."  Bulba leaned back and looked down at him coolly.  "You remind me of an old. . . friend by the name of Waddlemeyer.  He would not tell me what I wanted to know either-- and I _did_ kill him.  However, you are correct in that I need you to discover the location of the suit. . . but surely you know I have other ways to 'make you talk' as they say, besides threatening your life."

Fenton gulped.  "Y-you won't torture it out of me either!" he said as bravely as he could through his shaking beak.

"Oh, I am not sure of that, but those methods are unnecessary anyhow.  Torture is quite effective on some, but for a self-sacrificing, simple-minded, interfering _hero_ like Gizmoduck, other means are more efficient!"  Bulba's voice rose with each adjective, revealing the anger he had suppressed up to that point.  His single organic eye blazed, and Fenton drew back involuntarily.

However, Bulba did not strike him.  Instead, the bull swiveled to face the three Eggmen who had been watching the exchange dully from off to one side.  Bulba raised one arm, its claw retracted to be replaced with a gun muzzle.

As Bulba swung the appendage upward, Fenton suddenly realized what he was going to do.  "No!" Fenton cried, leaping forward.  He hadn't even realized that Hoof and Mouth had silently flanked him until they grabbed his arms and held him still.  Fenton could only stare as Bulba aimed his arm at the medium-sized Eggman and fired.

A greenish laser beam shot from the muzzle and struck the Eggman full on, before he could react.  A wordless cry escaped from Fenton's mouth as what had an instant ago been a living being was reduced to a pile of ash.

"Leonard!" cried the hulking largest Eggman.  The small one clapped his hands over his beak and drew back in horror.

"No," Fenton moaned again.  Even if he wasn't Gizmoduck without his suit, even though he could have done nothing to stop Bulba, an intense wave of guilt washed over him.  _He killed someone in cold blood, and it didn't bother him at all.  And if I hadn't given Launchpad the Gizmosuit, it never would have happened_.

"Now, duck," Bulba continued, turning back to Fenton, who could only look up at him in anguish.  "I will give you three hours to think over your situation before I kill the next one.  You see, I am not unreasonable-- that should be enough time for you to consider every angle and realize that my way is best.  If you tell me where the suit is before your time is up, I will let all three of you go.  If not. . . ."  He didn't finish but instead turned to the two goons holding Fenton.  "Take them. . .  downstairs and watch them."

Hoof and Mouth nodded quickly as Bulba turned to the cow.  "Clovis, I need to rest-- this infernal body exhausts me.  Let me know when the time has passed."

"Yes, Taurus Bulba," she said emotionlessly.

"Come on," Mouth directed Fenton and the two remaining Eggmen.  "Down there."  He pointed to the ladder Fenton had noticed earlier.  Fenton climbed down it numbly, followed by the Eggmen and the two goons.  "Downstairs" proved to be a drainage ditch connecting the street to the sewer system.  Mouth led the prisoners along a winding tunnel that branched off in several places; Hoof brought up the rear of the dismal party.  The short ram finally pointed into one of the branches.

Fenton and the Eggmen trudged inside what was effectively a prison cell.  The branch only ran for a couple yards before opening onto the street under a building, allowing for water run-off to drain down into the sewer.  The opening, no more than two feet tall, was covered by iron bars sunk into the crumbling asphalt of the street.  Above it, fastened vertically into the horizontal bar holding the tops of the others in place, was a rusty panel of metal that was seemingly intended as a cheap replacement for a disintegrated chunk of sidewalk.  The opening reached from Fenton's shoulders to above his head; though the opening was set at street level, the ditch was sunk a few feet lower.

Once the three were inside the branch, Hoof and Mouth heaved a large piece of grating over the place where the branch opened into the main tunnel.

"Don't try anything," Mouth ordered.  "We've got guns, you know-- and even if we didn't, the only way out of here is past the boss.  Yelling won't do any good either.  People in this part of town don't listen to cries for help."

"Yeah, yeah, we know, shorty," the smallest Eggman snapped, despite the fact that Mouth was taller than him.

Fenton turned away from their captors and faced out into the street, wrapping his hands around the bars.  The dirty street, nearly at eye level, was beginning to turn golden in the westering sunlight.

The sound of a muffled sniffle made him turn his head.  The large Eggman was snuffling and rubbing at his bill.

"Aww geez, Norton, don't start," the short Eggman groaned.  The big one stopped the noise and looked down at him, then abruptly threw back his head and bawled.

"Here."  Fenton pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Norton.

Norton blew his beak on it loudly.  "Th-thanks," he sniffled, then looked down at the little Eggman.  "Sorry, Edgar.  I-I can't help it.  L-Leonard-- we're all g-gonna--"

"Ya know I can't stand it when ya cry," Edgar grumbled.  He patted ineffectually at Norton's arm, which only made Norton cry harder.  Edgar's own beak quivered a little, then he turned angrily on Fenton.

"Can't ya do somethin'?  Yer Gizmoduck, ain't ya?"

"No, I'm not Gizmoduck!" Fenton cried.  "I'm just Fenton Crackshell-- without that suit, I'm just an accountant.  I'm. . . I'm _nobody_!"

"Yeah, well in three hours one a' us is gonna be nobody too," Edgar grumbled as he turned back to the blubbering Norton.

Fenton didn't need the reminder.  He turned back to the street and grasped the bars again.  "Just think," he murmured to the empty street beyond.  "Yesterday I was a meaningless little accountant, and today I'm. . . I'm. . . I'm a complete failure."

\--

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

"D.W., I'm getting worried," Launchpad commented as he hung up the phone in Drake's living room.  The two had returned to the Mallard residence a couple hours after Launchpad had dropped off Fenton's suitcase so that Darkwing would be there when Gosalyn got home from soccer practice.  They had had no luck finding any sign of Bulba's goons, which only convinced Darkwing further that Fenton had lied about seeing them.  Launchpad had tried several times to call Fenton's cell phone, but there was never any answer.

"I told you, he's probably out looking for Bulba's boys," Darkwing grumbled.

"But he'd still answer his phone, even if he really does have his suit."  Launchpad frowned and got out the phone book.  "I'm gonna call the hotel and ask for his room."

Darkwing sighed dramatically and sat on the couch, arms folded, while Launchpad dialed and asked for Mr. Crackshell's room.  However, Darkwing's irritation faded quickly as he saw the expression of growing alarm on his sidekick's face.  By the time Launchpad hung up the phone, Darkwing was already on his feet.

"What's wrong, L.P.?"

Launchpad looked at him worriedly.  "I don't know.  The clerk that answered wouldn't tell me anything-- he just said that Fenton had. . . left."

"Left?  What do you mean, left-- like, checked out?"

"No, it didn't sound like that.  D.W., I think the police were there; I could hear them in the background,"  Launchpad said desperately.  "Something's wrong."

Suddenly feeling guilty for his earlier condemnation of Fenton, Darkwing nodded.  "C'mon, we'll go down there.  If a crime has been committed, they have to let Darkwing Duck in!  We can be there and back before Gos gets home."

Thirty minutes later, Darkwing and Launchpad knew the whole story: the hotel employees had been incapacitated by a goat, a ram, and a donkey, then eventually freed by F.O.W.L. agent  Steelbeak of all people.  Steelbeak didn't tell the employees anything-- other than repeated assertions that High Command was going to fry him-- but there were obvious signs of a kidnapping: Fenton's room was trashed, the elevator had been destroyed, and Fenton himself was nowhere to be seen.  Some lady had turned up to collect Steelbeak; shortly afterwards, the employees had worked up the nerve to call their manager, who in turn had called the police.

"A goat, a ram, and a donkey," Darkwing said grimly as he and Launchpad conferred outside.  "So they really were there."  He put his hand on Launchpad's arm and looked up at his miserable sidekick.  "Launchpad, I'm so sorry.  I should have believed Fenton-- and you."

"It's okay, D.W.  You didn't know."

"No, but still. . . ."  Darkwing let go of his arm and clenched his fist in self-recrimination.  "Me and my  cursed ego.  If I hadn't fought with Gizmoduck at the bank robbery, we would have already caught those barnyard goons.  Launchpad, I promise you, from now on, no more fighting with Gizmoduck-- _or_ with Fenton."

"But. . . where _is_ he?" Launchpad said unhappily.

"I don't know, but we'll find him."  Darkwing hopped back on the Ratcatcher as Launchpad climbed into the sidecar.  "Bulba must have been here-- even Hammerhead's hard head couldn't have melted an elevator's controls like that.  Therefore, we have to look for a hideout that could accommodate him.  And if Steelbeak was there, we know that F.O.W.L.'s involved too."  As they sped back towards the Mallard residence, he mused, "But what could F.O.W.L. want with Fenton Crackshell?"

"D.W., I. . . I know," Launchpad said reluctantly.  "They know that he's Gizmoduck."

"They _what_?"  Darkwing swerved and nearly wrecked as he turned to stare at his sidekick.  "How?"

"At that bank heist of Steelbeak's last week-- when Giz rescued the hostage?"

"Yeah?"

"She-- she was workin' for F.O.W.L., and she stole his helmet.  He made me promise not to tell you, because he knew you'd. . . well, never let him live it down.  But she must have gotten a good enough look at his face to identify him."

Darkwing pulled up at his house and dismounted.  "So now Bulba _and_ Steelbeak must know that Fenton is Gizmoduck.  They were both after him; Bulba just got to him first."

"I can see why F.O.W.L. would want the Gizmosuit, but why Taurus Bulba?" Launchpad wondered.  "He couldn't even fit in it."

"That's true. . . but then, he's already a cyborg.  He doesn't _need_ to wear it-- but he maybe he _does_ need spare parts," Darkwing pointed out as they went in the house.  "F.O.W.L. did a pretty shoddy job with that body they stuck him with."  He sighed darkly.  "We'd just better hope we find him before he replaces them with stuff from the Gizmosuit-- that thing's indestructible.  Not to mention that I assume it really is _here_ , in that suitcase Fenton gave you."

Launchpad slumped down on the sofa.  "Yeah, it's here.  And we've gotta find Fenton before F.O.W.L. does too."

"I wouldn't worry about F.O.W.L.  I don't think Steelbeak has a chance against Bulba," Darkwing said wryly as he sat down next to his sidekick.

"But it's not just Steelbeak.  Those guys at the hotel said that his boss came for him," Launchpad reminded him.  "I didn't know he even _had_ a boss."

"Of course!" Darkwing slapped his forehead.  "I forgot all about that.  She must be part of High Command."  He dropped his hand and shook his head slowly at the realization.  "Those two bone-headed clerks _saw_ a F.O.W.L. High Commander.  Too bad they'd drunk too much to describe her.  All I got out of them was something about teeth."

"D.W.," Launchpad said slowly after a moment.  "I. . . bet we've seen her too."

Darkwing's eyes widened.  "The hostage!  Yes-- that explains why Steelbeak let her treat him like that.  He wouldn't take that from another F.O.W.L. agent unless she outranked him-- and the only people who outrank Steelbeak are in High Command."

"Geez, no wonder Fenton's in trouble," Launchpad sighed.

Before they could discuss the situation further, Gosalyn let herself in the front door.  "Uh oh," she muttered when she saw her two parental figures facing her on the sofa with morose expressions.  "What'd I do _this_ time?"

The sight of her made Darkwing realize how fortunate he was that she was safe, and that the worst thing she had to worry about was getting in trouble for making a bad grade or pulling a prank.  (Or not cleaning her room.  Or sneaking out of the house.  Or playing hooky from school.  Or. . . .)  He got up and went to her, hugging her tightly.

"Uhh Dad?  Is. . . everything okay?" Gosalyn wheezed, a bit winded.

"I'm just glad you're all right.  Gos, I need you to go over to the Muddlefoots' for dinner tonight, maybe to spent the night too."

"What's up?"  Gosalyn narrowed her eyes.  "Are you trying to keep me from going out on some exciting crime-fighting adventure with you?"

Darkwing took a deep breath, forcing himself to tell her the truth.  Heaven knew what a mess it caused the _last_ time he'd gone after Bulba.  "Taurus Bulba has kidnapped Fenton.  We think he's after the Gizmosuit."

"Fenton?"  Gosalyn looked up at him, wide-eyed.  "I-is he okay?"

"We. . . don't know.  But we're going to go look for him.  You need to stay where it's safe, especially since Bulba's involved.  Plus F.O.W.L.'s after the Gizmosuit too."  Gosalyn nodded solemnly, looking so unhappy, Darkwing felt compelled to add with a weak smile, "You're not exactly Bulba _or_ Steelbeak's favorite person, kiddo."

"Okay, Dad."  He had been worried that Gosalyn might put up an argument, but apparently she realized that this was more serious than stopping a little crime spree.  She hugged him abruptly.  "Be careful."

"We will, Gos, I promise."

Darkwing changed into his civilian attire long enough to take Gosalyn over to the Muddlefoots', where he told Binkie that he had a family emergency to attend to.  Binkie bought the story with much cooing and fussing.  After he finally escaped from her motherly clutches, Darkwing took Fenton's suitcase to his hideout, where he and Launchpad boarded the Thunderquack.

"I just feel better taking the suit with us," Darkwing explained as they took off.  "If Bulba or F.O.W.L. should find out where it was being stored, it won't be there for them to take-- and neither will Gosalyn.  Plus when we find Fenton, he can put it on right away."

Launchpad only nodded mutely.  Darkwing looked at him unhappily, then began activating every device they had onboard that could possibly aid them in the search.  They were going to need all the help they could get.

\--

Fenton stood staring out into the street for over an hour, his hands loosely wrapped around the bars of the makeshift prison.  Norton had quit crying, thankfully, and now he simply sat on some crumbling cement blocks, his enormous body slumped over miserably.  Edgar had been pacing back and forth in the cell, grumbling something unintelligible, for some time.

Glancing at his watch, Fenton realized that there were fewer than two hours left before Bulba's deadline was up.  **_Dead_** _line_ , he thought dismally.  _If Launchpad were here, he'd make a joke about that.  Although if Launchpad were here, he'd be trying to think of a way out of here, not just feeling sorry for himself._   Of course, there wasn't much chance that Launchpad of all people could outsmart Taurus Bulba. . . but still.

"He wouldn't just give up," Fenton whispered under his breath.  "And neither would Darkwing Duck."  Even if Darkwing didn't have his gadgets and gear, even if he was just Drake Mallard-- he wouldn't just wait around for three hours to let Bulba kill another person in cold blood.

Fenton turned away from the bars to look at Norton and Edgar.  Maybe they _were_ bad guys, maybe they were after the Gizmosuit too-- but they weren't like Bulba.  Cruel and, well, stupid they might be, but Fenton had seen an expression of genuine pain on Norton's beak when Leonard was killed, and on Edgar's when Norton cried.  _They do care about each other,_ Fenton realized.  _How would I feel if I were in their shoes, if I knew that either I or my best friend were going to be killed because some superhero schmuck was too caught up in himself to help us?_

Fenton clenched his fists at his sides and tightened his beak in resolve, then turned his gaze from the despondent Eggmen to their captors.  Hoof and Mouth were seated on cement blocks just outside the grate playing with a pair of dice.  A small pile of coins lay in front of each goon, although Hoof's stack was considerably larger.  Fenton watched them for a moment, then looked over his shoulder back at the barred opening to the street.  For the first time in quite a while, he formed a plan that had nothing to do with Gizmoduck.

"Hey guys, whatcha doing?" Fenton asked abruptly, wandering over to the grate with what he hoped was a casual attitude.

"Hunh?"  Mouth stared up at him, as did Hoof and both Eggmen.

"Whaddya talkin' ta _dem_ for?" Edgar growled.  "Buncha jerks."

"Hey, we're just doing our job!" Mouth protested.  "We have our orders just like you do."  Still, he gave Fenton a rather suspicious look.  "What's it to you what we're doing?"

"Oh, it uh, just looks like fun," Fenton said.  "Mind if I watch?"

Hoof and Mouth looked at each other then at Fenton, and Hoof shrugged.  Fenton crouched down at the grate, then looked casually back at the Eggmen who were still staring at him.  With one hand behind his back, out of sight of their captors, he motioned the Eggmen over.

He got absolutely no response; they only looked at him blankly.  Fenton wiggled his fingers at them harder and made a jerking motion with his beak.

"Uh, is somet'in' wrong?" Norton asked him loudly.

Fenton cringed.  "No, no, I just think you should come watch too.  They've got  a great game going!"

"I really ain't in da mood--" Edgar began, but Norton got up and came over to the grate, apparently glad for a distraction from his current situation.

"Well, I do like a good game.  Too bad Steelbeak don't let us play on da job."  Norton pressed his broad beak against the grate and looked down at the much smaller goons.  "Who's winnin'?"

"Hoof is," Mouth grumbled reluctantly.  "But not for long."  Hoof gave a loud, braying laugh in response.

It was exactly the opening Fenton had been hoping for.  "Dollar thirty seven. . . dollar ten. . . actually, you're winning," he commented to Mouth as casually as he could.

"Hunh?  I am?"  Mouth looked down at his smaller pile of coins.  "But he's got more."

"He's got more _coins_ , but it's mostly nickels.  You've got quarters."

"Wait a minute. . . ."  Mouth pawed through his money, counting it with excruciating slowness.  "A dollar twenty-five. . . dollar thirty-five. . . thirty-six. . . thirty-seven.  Hey, you're right!"  Hoof gave an indignant snort, then pushed his own coins into piles, counting them silently.  When he finished, he gave his winnings a helpless look, then shrugged at Fenton with a nod.  
  
"Whoa, how'd you do dat?" Norton asked Fenton in amazement.

"Do what?" Fenton replied innocently.  "I just counted it."

Mouth narrowed his eyes at Fenton a minute, then felt around in the pockets of the hotel uniform he was still wearing.   "Hoof, do you have any more money?  I want to try something."

Hoof investigated the pockets of his bellhop uniform and produced only a bag of jelly beans, apparently a snack for the uniform's former owner.  He shrugged again, but Mouth snatched up the bag.

"This will work."  He fumbled in it, then tossed a handful of beans into the air and caught them, closing his fingers over them to hide them.  "How many?"

"Thirteen."

Mouth gave him a skeptical look, then opened his hand and counted the beans.  "Y-you're right!"  He tried the experiment again, and Fenton once more guessed correctly.  "Amazing!" the little ram declared as he crammed the experiment into his mouth.  "You can count _anything_!"

"Everyone's good at something," Fenton said innocently.

"Edgar, c'mere," Norton said excitedly.  "You gotta watch dis!"

Edgar joined them, and Fenton spent the next five minutes counting jelly beans, growing more impatient with each passing second.  Counting beans from a distance wasn't going to help him and the Eggmen in the least.

"Hey, this is fun and all, but don't you guys want to get back to your game?" Fenton finally asked rather desperately.  "Hoof's still gotta catch up."  Hoof brayed in agreement.

"I guess," Mouth agreed reluctantly.  "Although I'm just going to _keep_ winning."

"If you're _that_ certain, why don't you let me play too?" Fenton asked.  "I've got some change."  He pulled a handful of coins out of his vest pocket to demonstrate.

Mouth looked at him, obviously torn over whether to allow Fenton to play with the counting skills that could possibly give him an edge.  Apparently the thought of a larger pot won out, and the ram nodded.

"Okay, you're in."

"Can you move a little closer?  I may be able to count fast, but I can't even _see_ the dots on the dice from here!"

"You're not thinking about asking us to let you out of there, are you?" Mouth asked suspiciously.

"Of course not!" Fenton assured him, quite honestly.  "Like you've said, you're under orders.  I don't care if you're on the other side of the grate; I just want to be able to see the dice."

"Fine, fine."  Mouth and Hoof dragged their blocks over to sit within a few inches of the grate.  Fenton crouched on the opposite side of the grate from Mouth and motioned at Norton.

"Hey, sit by me if you wanna watch.  You can see a lot better."

"Oh, t'anks!"  Norton settled in beside Fenton, resting his huge hands against the grate.  Fenton eyed first his hands, then the grate, then the distance from it to Hoof and Mouth.  The openings in the grate were just larger than Norton's hands, and Hoof and Mouth were easily within arm's length of the Eggman.  Perfect.

There was just one problem: getting Norton to realize what Fenton wanted him to do.  Fenton glanced past him at Edgar, hoping that the smaller and marginally brighter Eggman might have had the same idea.  Edgar looked up at Fenton, and although his visor hid his eyes, Fenton saw his mouth open slightly in realization.  Edgar closed his beak again and nodded at Fenton slightly.

_I'll just have to trust that he understands,_ Fenton thought in resignation as he turned to the dice game.  He watched the Eggmen out of the corner of his eye; Edgar was nudging Norton frantically, but the larger Eggman kept brushing him off.  Finally Edgar resorted to standing on tiptoe, lifting one side of Norton's helmet, and whispering to him.

"Oh!" Norton suddenly exclaimed loudly.

"Hunh?" Mouth asked as both he and Hoof stared at Norton.

"Oh, uh, he's just amazed at how lucky you are, Mr. Mouth," Fenton said quickly.  "You're still winning!"

"Oh, well I guess that just goes to prove that I don't need fancy counting skills to win," Mouth replied, preening.

"No, but havin' bashin'-people-over-da-head skills helps!" Norton declared.

" _Hunh_?"  Before either captor could do more than stare at Norton yet again, he shoved his hands through the grate.  He grabbed Hoof's shock of red hair in his left hand and Mouth's horns in his right, then he knocked their heads together with an audible thwack.  When Norton let them go, both goons slumped to the floor.

"Norton, dat's da cleverest t'ing you ever said," Edgar told him admiringly.

"Come on, we might not have much time before they wake up," Fenton said, jumping to his feet and hurrying to the opening to the street.

"Uh, wouldn't it be easier ta just move da grate?" Edgar pointed out.

"And get trapped in the sewers?"  Fenton turned back to the impatiently.  "The only way out in that direction is back the way we came-- and I for one am not ready to see Taurus Bulba again anytime soon."

"I t'ink Gizmoduck. . . er, Crackshell. . . er, whoever he is, is right, Edgar," Norton declared.  "He's gonna save us after all!"

"I need your help again though, Norton."  Fenton pointed at the rusty sheet of metal above the bars over the opening.  "I think that'll give if we hit it hard enough, but you're the only one strong enough-- or tall enough for that matter."

"Oh, dat's a piece a' cake," the giant Eggman said proudly.  He marched over to the opening and balled his huge hand into a fist.  When he drove it into the metal, the panel cracked through the rusty spots.  Norton punched the panel a couple more times until the rusted metal around the bolts gave way and the panel clattered to the pavement, leaving a gap a couple feet tall and a yard wide.

"I did it!" Norton said proudly.

"Great-- now if you can lift Edgar up, he can crawl through."

Norton nodded and compiled, boosting the tiny Eggman up through the gap.  Edgar scrambled out, and Fenton was certain that he would immediately run away.  However, Edgar only stood there, waiting on the others.

It was then that Fenton realized something: there was no way Norton could get out.  Even if he could get up to the opening by standing on the cement blocks, there was no way he could fit his massive bulk through the small gap.

When the large Eggman bent to pick him up, Fenton tried to stop him.  "Norton, wait-- this won't work."

"Hunh?  'Course it'll work.  Youse'll fit."

"But--"  Before Fenton could say anything else, Norton had scooped him up and shoved him through the gap above the bars.  Fenton stumbled onto the pavement, then turned back to the still-captive Eggman.

"Norton, _you_ won't fit."

Norton looked at him blankly a moment, then up at the gap.  ". . . oh."  His lower beak trembled slightly and for a moment Fenton thought he was going to start bawling again.  However, he only said, "You an' Edgar go on then."

Fenton gaped at him.  "But. . . but. . . ."

"Youse's Gizmoduck," Norton said shakily.  "F.O.W.L. needs you more den me."

"Norton, ya moron," Edgar said helplessly.  "Don't tell him _dat_.  And who da hell cares what F.O.W.L. needs, anyway?"

"I'll get out t'rough da sewers," the larger Eggman went on.  "Dere's gotta be anudder way out."

" _You_ won't never find it--" Edgar began.

"Get outta here, Edgar!" Norton almost yelled.  "Go on, 'fore dat bastard kills you like he did Leonard!  Least I'll know you're okay."

Edgar stared at him through the bars separating them.  Fenton looked from one Eggman to the other, then said firmly, "We're not leaving you here, Norton."   He looked down at the crumbling cement holding the bars in place, then ordered, "Edgar, stay here.  I'll be right back."

"Where ya goin', ya loon?" Edgar yelled after him.  Fenton didn't answer; he was too busy scouring the dirty alleys around them.  There was trash everywhere, along with flat tires and other automobile paraphernalia littering the ground.  _With this much junk, there has to be **something** I can use,_ Fenton thought as he searched frantically.  He didn't once think about all the tools he would have had at his disposal had he been wearing the Gizmosuit.

Finally his search turned up a dingy crowbar, half-wedged under a garbage dumpster.  "Jackpot," Fenton murmured, although it took nearly all his strength to pull out it.  He hurried back to where Edgar still waited and began scraping at the old mortar holding the horizontal bar over the opening in place.

"Norton, start pulling on it," Fenton commanded as the cement began to crumble loose in tiny pieces.  "If we can shake the bars loose, you can get out."  Norton immediately began jiggling the bars in their sockets, making an ungodly racket.  Fenton could only hope that Bulba and Clovis wouldn't hear it.

Edgar grabbed the vertical bars and helped Norton shake them.  Fenton's hopes fell when the crowbar knocked out the last of the loose mortar and scraped against unyielding concrete.  The bar rattled loosely in its socket, but it wouldn't come free.

"No!" Fenton growled, hardly aware that he was speaking aloud.  "I'm not giving up!"  He shoved Edgar out of the way and threw himself at the opposite side of the opening, wedging the crowbar's tip into the other socket and levering the bar with a strength he had never experienced outside of the Gizmosuit.  He felt resistance for an instant, then an entire chunk of cement pried loose from the wall and went flying out into the street with a crash.  At that moment, Norton was pushing outward on the bars; the left end of the horizontal bar popped free of the wall under his force, then the right one came loose without the length of the bar to wedge it in place.  Norton squawked with surprise as the smaller vertical bars came out of their sockets and the whole grating clattered to the street.  He landed on top of it, his top half leaning out of the opening and into the street.

Panting, Fenton dropped the crowbar, and he and Edgar hauled Norton out of their prison by his thick arms.  Fenton wiped his forehead on his sleeve, then he became aware that both Eggmen were staring at him.

"You. . . you really _are_ Gizmoduck, ain't ya," Edgar murmured.  "Even widdout da suit."

"I. . . ."  Fenton swallowed hard and turned toward the direction which he hoped would lead them back towards the heart of St. Canard.  "Come on.  Bulba'll be coming for us in less than an hour, even if Hoof and Mouth don't wake up before them.  We have to hurry."

He started down the street in a near run.  The two Eggmen looked from him to each other, then shrugged and followed him.

\--

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

Even using every kind of homing device at F.O.W.L.'s disposal, Belle turned up nothing after two hours of fruitless searching for any sign of Bulba, Crackshell, or the missing Eggmen.  She had stopped the car at every promising-looking warehouse and abandoned building they passed, forcing Steelbeak to go investigate each.  That strategy had resulted only in a waste of time and a very cranky Steelbeak.

"In case you haven't noticed, t'is ain't workin'," he growled as Belle pulled off the road into a parking spot to think.  "We could search for the next t'ree weeks and not find 'em."

"I know," Belle said tightly.  She fiddled a moment with the specially-built monitor in the dashboard of her car, then gave up and sat back in her seat.  "I just--"

"Ya just what?" Steelbeak grumbled when she broke off without finishing.  
  
"I have no idea where to look," she admitted in a low voice.  It felt like a drastic show of weakness, but at that point she supposed it didn't matter.  It wasn't like she could fool anyone into thinking High Command was infallible that late in the game.  "This is Taurus Bulba, who once had his base of operations under the _jail_.  He could be anywhere."

"I don't s'pose youse guys had a trackin' device on _him_."

"Of course we did.  And of course it was the first thing that fried when he overheated."  She slammed her hands against the dashboard in frustration.  " _Damn_ it."

"Geez, babe, calm down.  Crackshell's probably a goner anyway."

"And that's supposed to make me _calm down_?"

"I just mean there ain't no hurry," he shrugged.  "Ya gotta be realistic about t'ese t'ings.  You weren't t'ere when we resurrected Bulba--"

"I saw the video," she interrupted sullenly.

"Then you know what he's like.  Ain't exactly the paragon a' patience. . . like someone else I could mention," he added under his breath.  "If Crackshell didn't tell him where the suit is, Bulba probably just killed him-- I mean, you _know_ what he did to ol' Waddlemeyer when he wouldn't tell Bulba the Ramrod code."

"Ah yes, the Ramrod," Belle growled.  "Another time Bulba beat F.O.W.L. to the punch."

"Hey, you can't blame _t'at_ on me.  Youse guys assigned Synapse to the mission, not me."

"I know, I know.  It's not that."  Belle turned to face him, though she had to look up to do so.  "It's that this makes _three times_ Bulba has gotten the better of us.  Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not enough to make me wanna stick my neck out to stop him.  _But_ if that's what 'my precious High Command' as Bulba calls youse wants, I guess I ain't got much choice.  Can't we at least take a break though?  I'm starvin'."

"I suppose.  You've been doing most of the work, anyway-- for once."  Belle turned back to the steering wheel in resignation.  "Where do you want to go?"

Steelbeak directed her to a small Mexican restaurant nearby, where he proceeded to consume two baskets of tortilla chips and salsa while she slumped on the other side of the booth and hoped she wouldn't see anyone she knew.  Steelbeak ordered tacos and the largest margarita Belle had ever seen; she ordered a beef chimichanga and pretended it was Taurus Bulba.  Normally Belle enjoyed Mexican food, but the thought of being in public with Steelbeak combined with the fact that the restaurant employed a live mariachi band who played the Macarena less than a yard away from her made her too jumpy to appreciate the meal.  There was one small blessing though; Steelbeak was too busy eating to talk.

Belle had intended for them to start up the search again as soon as they finished, but as they got into the car, she realized that she couldn't stand it right then.  She was exhausted from not sleeping the previous night, and the thought of returning to hours of driving around St. Canard was too much to face.  She finally hit on an excuse to delay the task a little longer. ****

"I smell like tacos now," Belle grumbled, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the street.  "Since we're already wasting time, I'm going to stop at my apartment and get a shower.  It's close."

"Don't tell me you're givin' up on findin' Crackshell," Steelbeak said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Belle lied; that was exactly what she was beginning to do.  "It won't take fifteen minutes, then we'll start looking again."  _Even though Bulba's probably already killed Crackshell by now, just like Steelbeak said,_ she added silently.

She parked her car in her apartment's lot, then said reluctantly, "You might as well come in."

"How generous," Steelbeak said snidely.  "Here I thought you were just gonna crack the window open for me."  He followed her inside the apartment's living room and looked around curiously.  "So you live here?  Kinda small, ain't it?"

Belle locked the door behind him and put her keys in her pocket, thankful that she had the kind of lock that required a key even on the inside.  All she needed was for Steelbeak to get out of search party duty by running away.

"I'm hardly ever here," Belle muttered in response to his comment.  "Besides, with the kind of rent we pay on your penthouse, F.O.W.L. has to cut corners somewhere."  She gestured to an arm chair across from her small television.  "Wait there.  I'll be quick."

"Yeah, yeah."  Steelbeak picked up the remote control and switched on the TV as he sat down.  "Take yer time, babe.  I'm not in any hurry."

Belle stalked back to her bedroom for some clean clothes, then locked herself in the bathroom with her keys.  Despite her intention to hurry, she was tempted to take longer once the hot water from the shower hit her feathers.  She had managed to ignore her exhaustion up until that point, but it was all she could do to stay on her feet now that she was able to relax in her own home, however slightly.

Then, as Belle dumped a handful of shampoo onto her head-feathers, it suddenly struck her that Steelbeak was a mere two rooms away.  He was just about the last person she had ever imagined being in her apartment, which while small and often vacant was still home, still uniquely _hers_.  And now the bane of her existence was sitting in her living room, watching _Pellican's Island_ like he belonged there.

"Urg."  Belle scrubbed her feathers with a vengeance, then quickly rinsed the shampoo out.  "I've got to get him out of here."

She shut off the water and toweled off as rapidly as she could, then pulled on her underwear and pants.  Emerging from the bathroom in her slacks and undershirt, she found a clean turtleneck and threw it on the bed while she rummaged around in her nightstand drawer for a comb.  As she raked it through her damp head-feathers, she glanced down at the drawer then slowly let the hand holding the comb drop.

Her fumbling for the comb had uncovered something in the bottom of the drawer that she had practically forgotten about.  She reached in and pulled it out: a gold signet ring with F.O.W.L.'s logo inset in mother-of-pearl on its face.  Belle sat down on the edge of her unmade bed and slowly slipped it onto the middle finger of her left hand, amazed that it was still a perfect fit.  She hadn't worn it in a couple years; High Command had all taken off their rings when Beau stopped wearing his.  He had replaced it with a wedding band, but the rest of them had left their fingers bare after that.

"How sentimental of us," Belle muttered sarcastically as she lay back on the bed, holding up her hand to look at the rather large ring on her slender finger.  "We really were big on unity for a while there. . . ."  She clenched her small fist and glowered at the ring, then laid her arm down by her side.  "Until _Cheryl_ ruined it."  Belle yawned.  "She's like. . . the Yolko Ono of F.O.W.L. . . . ."  For some reason, she found that concept highly amusing, but she was too tired to laugh.

When Belle opened her eyes again, she dully wondered why everything was so dark.  Turning her head towards the window, she discovered the reason: the sun had completely set.

"Damn," she breathed, shoving herself up into a sitting position.  _I must have fallen asleep_.  As she looked wildly at her digital clock, which read 11:13 P.M., she realized that she had somehow ended up under her bedcovers.

" _Damn_ ," Belle swore again, clambering out of bed.  The sheet caught around her left foot , nearly tripping her; she snarled at it and yanked her webbed foot loose, then stalked into the living room.  She fully expected to Steelbeak to be gone since she had left her keys on the nightstand unguarded-- but no, he was still sprawled in the armchair, snoring loudly.  Belle sighed and pried the remote out of his hand to turn off the television.

"Hey," Steelbeak muttered without opening his eyes as the TV clicked off.  "I was watchin' t'at."

"If you were watching an informercial about makeup, I'm going to be concerned."  Belle threw down the remote on the coffee table and glared down at Steelbeak as he opened one eye.  "It's after eleven-- we've lost hours of time!"

"Hey, it ain't my fault.  I was waitin' on _you_!"

"I fell asleep," Belle muttered abashedly.

Steelbeak smirked and sat up in his chair, stretching.  "I know.  It was startin' to seem like a pretty long shower, so I went to see where ya were."

"Well why didn't you wake me up then?"  Belle sank down onto the couch and dropped her head in her hands, rubbing at her eyes.

"'Cos I don't trust you to drive me around after who knows how many nights workin' over t'ere at H.Q."  He leaned forward when she didn't respond.  "Whassa matter?"

"It's Crackshell," Belle finally muttered. "How are we going to get him back from Bulba-- if he's not already dead?  Bulba nearly killed us all the last time we dealt with him."

"No, he almost killed _me_ ," Steelbeak grumbled.  "And it ain't _my_ problem. I wasn't the one who decided to resurrect him-- that was your psycho brother's doin'."

"If it's F.O.W.L.'s problem, it's _your_ problem too," Belle snapped.  She dropped her hands and glared at him again.  "In case you've forgotten, Bulba's got three of _your_ Eggmen as well."

"Eggmen are expendable!" Steelbeak griped.

"Maybe so, but I'd still prefer not to waste them.  We can't just. . . build more!  And Crackshell _isn't_ expendable."

"Geez, why're you so obsessed wit' Crackshell, anyway?" Steelbeak grumbled.  "Don't tell me you're in love wit' the twit or somet'in' ."

"We need him to get Gearloose to make a Gizmosuit for us.  That's _all_ ," Belle snarled.  "What's it to _you_ , anyway?"

"It ain't _anyt'in'_ to me! If you wanna waste F.O.W.L.'s time tryin' to protect some damn overgrown Junior Woodchuck, go ahead-- you're High Command, not me!" Steelbeak all but yelled. "Hell, you can go screw Darkwing Duck for all I care."

Belle clenched her fists in her lap, seething.  "Unlike _you_ , I don't 'screw' every member of the opposite sex I can get my hands on!  Even if I _did_ have feelings for Gizmoduck-- which I _don't_ \-- I wouldn't. . . wouldn't do _that_!"

Steelbeak narrowed his eyes at her.  "I always figured you were an ice princess.  Guess this saves me the trouble of findin' out."

"A what-- _what_?"  Belle half rose from the sofa.

"Look, babe, Crackshell is _toast_ ," Steelbeak went on without giving her a chance to finish.  "He was toast when Bulba got to t'at hotel room 'fore I did.  We might as well admit there ain't no point in lookin' for him."

"But. . . we can't just give up."  Belle sank back down onto the couch again, dismissing her anger at him in favor of the more important matter of Gizmoduck.  "Not when we're this close."

"Look, we got the plans for the suit-- t'anks to _me_ I might add.  And we got Gearloose.  There's gotta be some other way to make him talk."

"Yes, but--"  Belle broke off, unable to articulate how she felt about the matter.  It wasn't so much that Crackshell was imperative to F.O.W.L.'s success.  It was the fact that this was yet another mission that was failing. . . another mission of _hers_.  Not that Beau and Chogan hadn't had their share of failures as well, but she hated to lose when she herself had been so active in the mission, instead of just ordering around subordinate agents.  This was. . . personal, especially when she remembered how Gizmoduck had looked when she removed his mask-- the long bill, wide eyes, and silly hair-- and how kind he had been to her when he didn't know who she was.  She had let someone that benign escape right from under her beak-- and right into the clutches of Taurus Bulba who wouldn't care how kind or innocent Crackshell was without the suit.  Who had probably already snapped Crackshell in two.

 _I can't tell **him** that though,_ she thought, finally raising her eyes to Steelbeak once more.  _He wouldn't understand._  
  
Steelbeak had been watching her with a thoughtfully evaluative expression, but when she looked at him, he lowered his gaze to her left hand, resting on her knee.  "Hey, where'd ya get the bling?"

"Oh. . . ."  Belle had forgotten that she was still wearing her F.O.W.L. ring.  She lifted her hand and regarded it dully.  "It's old."

"Lemme see t'at."  Steelbeak moved from the chair to sit next to her on the couch and grabbed her hand, peering down at the ring rather greedily.  "How come I ain't got one a' t'ose?"

"They were only for High Command!"  Belle snatched her hand away and held it protectively against her throat an instant before tugging the ring off and looking down at it.  "We had them made when we formed High Command, after Dr. NoGood died and we had to scrape together what was left of F.O.W.L. and come back to America.  We wore them for a while, but then Beau quit when he got married-- said he was afraid he'd forget to take it off when he was around his wife," she muttered bitterly as she set the ring down on the couch cushion between them.  "Like F.O.W.L. was another woman or something."

Steelbeak immediately picked the ring up and turned it in the light.  "What's it made of?"

"Gold.  And the face is mother of pearl."  She folded her arms and leaned back.  "It's not worth that much, so you can quit looking so greedy."

"Hey, babe, gold's gold.  Alt'ough, it clashes wit' my beak.  Pity."  He slipped the ring on his smallest finger and admired his hand.  "Now if it was my choice, I'd make it platinum.  If _I_ was High Command--"

"Don't get any ideas."  The longer Belle talked to him, the more exhausted she realized she was.  She had to fight to keep her eyes open.  It didn't seem like something worth fighting for anyway. . . and neither did much of anything else.

"I can't look for Bulba's hideout any more tonight," she admitted abruptly.  "I'm too tired.  I. . . just go home.  I'll put all the remaining Eggmen on the search tomorrow.  Even if Crackshell's dead, we can still try to find the suit."

"Babe, you're forgettin', I ain't got any transportation."

"Call a cab or one of the Eggmen or a girlfriend or something," Belle said tiredly.  "I don't care."

"An Eggman?"  Steelbeak raised an eyebrow.  "Now what would the rest a' High Command t'ink if they heard you were fraternizin' wit' a subordinate agent alone in the middle of the night?"

"Why would they think anything?"

Steelbeak leaned forward with his elbow against the back of the couch, then rested his metal chin on his hand, which still bore the F.O.W.L. ring.  "'Cos I'm a man, and you're a woman, ice princess or no.  Babe."

 _He's trying to annoy me,_ Belle realized.  Normally it would have worked, but at that point, with most of her anger spent, she just found it funny.  "You honestly think they would suspect anything of _us_?" she said with a smirk.  "They know better than that."

Steelbeak sat back and blinked, obviously surprised at the lack of an angry reaction.  "What's t'at supposed to mean?"

Belle laughed outright.  "To paraphrase my _dear_ brother, you and I would _never_ go for each other."  She got up to start for her room, but he stood too with an indignant expression.

"What, you go for superheroes wit' titanium underwear instead?"

 _He's not used to girls doing anything but falling all over him, so he can't stand it that a woman's actually laughing at him._   The realization and its reminder of all the _other_ women Steelbeak had probably "fraternized" with went a long way towards killing Belle's amusement.

"Maybe I should," she replied shortly.

"Yeah, well. . . I don't like you neither!" Steelbeak retorted rather lamely.  

Belle turned back to him sharply and snapped, "Then why are you still here?"  She stalked over to the drawer where she kept the phone book and snatched it out, shoving it at him.  "Call a damn taxi and go home."

"Fine!" he yelled after her as she marched back to her bedroom and slammed the door.  Belle stayed there for the ten minutes or so that passed before she heard the front door to her apartment close behind him.  It wasn't until she emerged to lock it that she remembered he still had her F.O.W.L. ring.

 _So what_ , she thought, trudging back to bed.  _I never wear it anyway.  Although it'll take some explaining if the rest of High Command finds out._

\--  
"You know sumpin'," Edgar panted to Fenton after they and Norton had gotten some distance away from Bulba's hideout, "we prob'ly should be tryin' to capture you."

"Yeah," Norton added.  "Dat's what we was doin' at the hotel."

"But you don't have any weapons on you anymore, do you?  You can't expect to capture me without weapons," Fenton said as reasonably as he could manage, hoping they wouldn't realize how absurd the pretence was with someone Norton's size around.

"Yeah,  you gotta point," Edgar sighed.  He stopped walking and looked around; they were nearing the downtown area of St. Canard.  "But da boss _did_ want us to bring you in, even dough dey do have da inventor now."

"Inventor?" Fenton looked at him curiously.  "What inventor?"

"Some quack from Duckburg," Edgar shrugged.  "We picked him up after we went lookin' fer you down there at yer ma's place."  He shuddered slightly.  "I feel for you, man.  She's scary."

"What did he look like?" Fenton persisted, even though he only knew of one quack inventor in Duckburg.

"Eh, he was tall.  Had red hair and glasses.  Worse dresser even dan you."

"Gyro," breathed Fenton.

"Yeah, dat was it!" Norton said brightly.  "Gyro Gearloose."

"And you said you kidnapped him?"

"Yeah, Steelbeak turned him over to High Command.  First time we _ever_ got ta go before High Command, eh, Norton?" Edgar said proudly.

"They're kinda funny lookin'," Norton contributed.

"Watch it!" Edgar hissed.  "You can't go around talkin' 'bout High Command like dat in front a' _Gizmoduck_.  Aldough," he went on with a suspicious look at Fenton, "maybe we ain't shoulda said any a' dis in front a' Gizmoduck."

Fenton forced himself to speak normally.  "Oh, that doesn't matter.  You're going to capture me anyway, so who could I tell?"

"Heh, yeah, you're right."  Edgar relaxed.  "So I guess we should get on dat."

"You forgot again, we ain't got no weapons," Norton pointed out.

"M-maybe we could work something out," Fenton stammered.  "Like. . . let's all go _get_ weapons, then meet back in here in say, an hour.  Then you can capture me fair and square.  How does that sound?"

"Dat sounds reasonable," Edgar said thoughtfully.

"Okay-great-toodles!" Fenton called, already dashing off towards a residential area.

"Wow, he's in a hurry," mused Norton.  "We better go find some guns."

\--

Fenton broke into a run as soon as he was out of sight of the Eggmen.  Fortunately, he was familiar enough with St. Canard to realize that he was near Drake Mallard's house, exactly where he wanted to be.  He planned to get Darkwing and Launchpad's help to both apprehend Taurus Bulba and rescue Gyro, whose abduction made the situation even more dire; the thought of the addled inventor in the clutches of an organization like F.O.W.L. worried Fenton greatly.

However, when Fenton finally reached Drake's house, there was no answer to his frenzied pounding on the door.

"Of all the times for them to be out," Fenton muttered.  Out of desperation, he went to the house next door and rang the doorbell.  After a moment, a rotund, genial man opened the door.

"Uh, hi," Fenton said, looking over his shoulder nervously with the feeling that the Eggmen were right behind him.  "Do you happen to know when Mr. Mallard will be in?  I'm a, um, friend, and--"

"Well how do you do?" the neighbor said effusively, shaking Fenton's hand so hard, the smaller duck was nearly yanked off his feet.  "Any friend of Drake-a-rooni's a friend of mine.  The name's Herb Muddlefoot!"

"F-fenton Crackshell," the shaken Fenton answered.

"C'mon in!  _Binkie_!" Herb bellowed.  "We got company!"

"Oh my!"  A slender woman with "housewife" written all over her appeared in the doorway of the living room, where Fenton found himself dragged.  "How do you do?"

"Fine, fine.  I was looking for Drake--"

"Oh, well he and Launchpad left a couple hours ago.  He said something about a family emergency, the poor dear," Binkie fretted.  "They left Gosalyn here with our Honker."

"Gosalyn's here?"  Fenton brightened considerably.  "Can I talk to her?  It's uh, about a surprise for Drake."  _A big surprise named Taurus Bulba._

"Well sure!  Just a sec.  **_Gos!  Honk!_** " Herb shouted so loudly, Fenton winced and covered his ears.  The two children appeared at the top of the stairs, Gosalyn standing slightly behind Honker.

"I didn't do it!" she protested automatically.

"No, you got a visitor!" Herb explained, gesturing towards Fenton.

" _Fenton_!"  Gosalyn pelted down the stairs and attacked him with a hard hug.  "I thought you were-- uh, I-I mean, what a nice surprise!"

Fenton patted her nervously on the back as Honker came downstairs more slowly.  "Hi Gos.  I needed to talk to you about that _big surprise_ for your dad."

"Ohhh yeah!"  Gosalyn grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the front door, past the surprised elder Muddlefoots.  "C'mon, Honker."

"Don't be long!" Binkie called after them.  "Dinner's almost ready!"

"We'll hurry, Mom," Honker promised as he followed them outside.

"Fenton, what's going on?" Gosalyn asked anxiously as soon as they were away from Herb and Binkie.  "Where's Taurus Bulba?  Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," Fenton assured her, then he blinked.  "Wait-- how did you know about Bulba?"

"Dad told me!  He and Launchpad went out looking for you."

"They took your suit with them," Honker said in his nasal voice, shoving his glasses farther up his short beak.

"Th-they went out looking. . . for me?"  Fenton stared down at the kids.  
  
"Of course they did!" Gosalyn answered impatiently.  "You think they'd just sit around after _Gizmoduck_ went missing?"

"Oh. . . I guess not."  Fenton sighed, then fretted, "I've got to find them!  Not only do we have to stop Bulba, but I found out that F.O.W.L. has an old friend of mine and Launchpad's!  We have to go help him."

"So you just want to get in touch with Dad?  No problem," Gosalyn grinned.  She looked around the ground, then picked up a good-sized rock and hefted it in her hand.  "He has the whole house wired-- if I so much as knock over a lamp, he gets notified."  Before Fenton could respond, she hauled back and threw the rock through a window of the Mallard residence.

"Uh oh," muttered Honker.  "He's not going to like _that_."

"Eh, it's for a good cause."  Gosalyn grinned.  "How often do I get to break stuff for a reason, anyway?"

Fenton wasn't convinced that the kid's strategy would work-- until he heard the roar of the Thunderquack's engine overhead.  He gaped as the plane landed smack in the middle of the street and the top flipped up to reveal an irate Darkwing Duck.

" _Gosalyn Mallard_ , do you have _any_ idea how busy I am right now without you--"

" _Fenton_!" Launchpad interrupted, leaping out of the pilot's seat.  "You're all right!"

"Fenton?"  Darkwing blinked, noticing the duck for the first time.  "What. . . what happened?"

"See, Dad, I had a _reason_ ," Gosalyn pointed out.

Launchpad meanwhile had run over to Fenton and engulfed him in a hard hug.  "Oh man, I thought you were a goner!"

"So did I."  Fenton finally extracted himself and turned to Darkwing, who had joined his sidekick on the ground.  "Darkwing, I know where Bulba's hideout is.  He had the Eggmen and me there, but we escaped.  We've got to stop him-- he wants to add the Gizmosuit to his own body, and if he gets those parts. . . ."

"He'll be indestructible," Darkwing finished grimly.  "Your suit's in the jet; get it on and we'll go take care of that overgrown brisket!"

"But what happened to the Eggmen?" Honker sniffed, shoving his glasses up again.

"That's the other thing," Fenton explained.  "I got away from them, but they'll be waiting for me a for me a few blocks to the west.  F.O.W.L. wants the suit too, so Steelbeak's probably out looking for me."

"I think we've got more of F.O.W.L. to worry about than Steelbeak and the Eggmen," Darkwing muttered. 

"L-like who?" Fenton stammered, looking sharply at Launchpad.  The taller duck fidgeted and looked away.

"Like High Command."  Darkwing went back to the Thunderquack and produced the suitcase containing the Gizmosuit.  "Here, suit up.  L.P. and I'll go after Bulba while you keep your date with the Eggmen."

"Uh, D.W.," Launchpad interrupted hesitantly.  "We uh, haven't had the best luck 'goin' after' Bulba in the past.  Maybe we better let Gizmoduck handle him?"

Darkwing Duck turned back to him with an irritated expression, then to Fenton's amazement, it slowly faded, and the masked duck nodded, though with some resignation.  "You're right.  Fenton, do you think Gizmoduck can handle Bulba alone?"

"I. . . I think so," Fenton told him, trying to sound more confident than he felt.  "As long as I have the suit."

"Okay, we'll go find those Eggmen of yours.  Maybe we can get a lead from them on where Steelbeak and High Command are."  Darkwing set the suitcase down in front of Fenton.  "We'll meet you back at the tower later tonight."

Gosalyn opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, her adoptive father turned on her with a glare.  "Don't even think about it, young lady.  You go back home with Honker-- and we'll discuss this broken window later."

"But Daaaaad, it was the quickest way to get your attention!"

" _Go_."

Gosalyn sighed melodramatically.  "Oh, all _right_.  C'mon Honker."  As they trudged off, Fenton heard her mutter, "I hope we're at least having something good for dinner."

As Darkwing and Launchpad got back into the Thunderquack, the pilot looked down at Fenton worriedly.  "Be careful, buddy.  Bulba's a nasty character."

Fenton thought of Leonard and nodded.  "I know."

\--

As soon as Fenton disappeared, Edgar looked around thoughtfully.  "I live pretty close to here, and I got plenty a' guns at my place."

"Oh good," Norton said cheerfully as he followed Edgar down a side street towards his run-down apartment complex.  "I always wondered where you lived."

Edgar barely heard him.  "I hope Crackshell'll come back d'ough.  Steelbeak'll be pretty mad if we just let him get away."

"He _said_ he'd come back," Norton insisted.  "An' good guys don't never lie."

Edgar rolled his eyes behind his visor.  "Norton, _everybody_ lies.  It's da way da world works."

"Whaddya mean?"  They had reached Edgar's apartment; Norton stood by docilely as Edgar unlocked the door, grateful that Bulba had at least left him his keys.

"I mean dat you _gotta_ lie to get along in da world."   Norton followed him inside the tiny apartment, and Edgar began rummaging through a stack of empty pizza boxes for one of his guns.  "If you don't lie, you don't get nowhere."

"Hmm.  I guess."  Norton flopped down on the futon that served as Edgar's bed and which made up a full third of the furniture in the single room.  "I just don't see why da good guys gotta do it too.  I mean, sure _we_ lie, but we's da bad guys.  But why's guys like Gizmoduck gotta do it?"

Edgar slid the gun he found into his empty holster, then started searching for another for Norton.  "I don't know _why_ ," he said impatiently.  "Dey just _do_.  It's like. . . like a game or somedin'.  Bein' honest wit' a person makes you vulnerable to 'em."

"An' dat's bad?"

" _Course_ it's bad."  Edgar finally found a second gun and handed it to the larger Eggman.  "Bein' vulnerable means yer weak, an' dat other person can take advantage of you.  Like. . . say I care 'bout someone,  and dey ask me if I like 'em.  Den I say yes instead of lyin' about it.  Dat makes me vulnerable, 'cos den dey can get me to do stuff for 'em or give 'em stuff or whatever.  Dey'll be all, 'I'll like you back if you do dis for me.'"

Norton looked at him blankly.  "But how is lyin' to someone you care about like a game?"

"'Cos you gotta play like you _don't_ like 'em, 'til yer sure dey like you too.  Den maybe it's okay to be honest about it-- but if you ain't sure, it's dangerous.  Da most powerful people in da world are da ones who have someone love 'em, dat dey don't love back."

"Wow."  Norton looked sufficiently impressed.  "Even more powerful den High Command?"

"Sure.  Dat's why it's a good t'ing High Command ain't da types to fall in love.  Den we'd _all_ be screwed."  He started for the door, gesturing for Norton to follow him.  "C'mon, we gotta meet Crackshell soon."

"But Edgar. . . ." Norton went on thoughtfully as they went out, making the short duck groan inwardly.

"What?"  Edgar locked the door and started walking back towards the spot where they were to meet Crackshell.

"Dat's not _always_ true is it?  That carin' about someone makes you vul. . . vulner. . . makes you do t'ings for 'em dat you don't wanna do?"

Edgar shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground as they walked, thinking, _I waited for Crackshell to bust you out of that sewer, didn't I?_   Aloud, he grumbled, "Shaddup, Norton.  Just forget it.  I shoulda known better den to try to explain t'ings to _you_."

\--

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

Even safely ensconced in the Gizmosuit, Fenton felt more scared the closer he got to Bulba's hideout.  He _knew_ that his suit was indestructible and that Bulba couldn't seriously injure him as long as he was Gizmoduck-- but knowing it didn't make him feel any better.  Taurus Bulba frightened him more than any other villain he'd encountered.

Fenton rolled to a stop in front of the tunnel.  There was no sign of life, no clue that St. Canard's greatest criminal mastermind lurked inside.   _He must have discovered by now that we've escaped-- our three hours were up thirty minutes ago.  I bet **that** made him mad. . . ._   Fenton suddenly thought of Hoof and Mouth, his former guards, and felt guilty.  What if Bulba had killed them for letting Fenton escape?

 _You can't save everyone,_ Fenton told himself, trying to think in his Gizmoduck voice.   _It was either them or you_.

He activated the rotor blades in his helmet and flew up to the "roof" of the tunnel, landing with a thud.  The manhole's cover was back in place, and Fenton had to slide it out of the way before peering nervously down into the maintenance area below.

It was empty.  Frowning, Fenton lowered himself-- not an easy task in his bulky suit-- through the opening and looked around.  The pile of trashed machine parts was still there, but Bulba and Clovis were gone, along with Clovis' office chair.  _They must have evacuated the hideout as soon as they saw we were gone_ , Fenton thought.

Still, he had to be sure.  He dropped down into the storm drain area of the hideout and zoomed along the passageway.  When he came to the area where he and the Eggmen had been trapped, he found it abandoned.  The grate was still in place over the cell that had held them, but there was nothing to indicate that anyone had ever been there.

"Shoot," Fenton muttered aloud as he sped back to the hideout's entrance.  "I'll have to tell Darkwing that they got away-- again.  But where could they have gone?"  He fell silent while he climbed out of the overpass.  It was nearly dark by then.

 _Bulba would want to catch me again,_ Fenton reasoned, _but he won't know where to look.  He knows F.O.W.L.'s after me too though, and since I left with the Eggmen, he might assume that they captured me.  So maybe he'd try to find F.O.W.L.'s headquarters._

That made the most sense, and Fenton felt almost relieved.  If Darkwing could get information on Steelbeak and High Command's location from the Eggmen, then perhaps he and Fenton could find Bulba there too.

 _Bulba. . . and Gyro_ , Fenton suddenly remembered with a growing sense of horror.  The Eggmen had said that F.O.W.L. had Gyro, and he doubted that they had the intelligence or foresight to lie about that.  And if Bulba found Gyro. . . .

 _I didn't even tell Launchpad about Gyro being in danger,_ Fenton thought miserably as he hurried back towards the tower where Darkwing had located his hideout.  _I hope they get back to the tower fast-- we have to find him before Bulba does._

\--

"There they are."    Darkwing Duck was peering through a pair of binoculars from the Thunderquack, which Launchpad had landed-- thankfully not _crashed_ \-- on a building a block from the spot where Fenton had been supposed to meet the Eggmen.  Launchpad crouched beside him, just able to make out the two bright yellow spots made by the goons' uniforms.

"What're they doin'?"

"They've both got guns, so I guess they're waiting for Fenton."  Darkwing lowered the binoculars a moment and frowned thoughtfully.  "Now we just have to decide what to do with them."

"You mean we aren't gonna capture 'em?" Launchpad asked in a disappointed voice.

"It's either that, or just keep an eye on them-- if they go back to F.O.W.L. headquarters, we could just trail them and find out where it is.  If we capture them, they might not tell us anything."

"But what if we lose track of them?" Launchpad persisted.  "It seems like everybody's gettin' away from us lately."

"You have a point there, L.P.," Darkwing admitted in a grumble.  "I guess you're right-- we can take them back to the tower and question them."

"I'm right?" Launchpad asked happily.  "Wow!"

They got back into the Thunderquack, and Launchpad took off from the building.  The plane shot past the Eggmen, then Launchpad swooped around to pass over them again.  The Eggmen looked up and stared as a large claw descended from the underside of the plane.  They tried too late to run; Darkwing, who was controlling the claw, swept them both up in its grasp.

"Got 'em, sidekick!" he crowed.  "Now, to the tower!"

"Righto, D.W."  Launchpad banked the plane in a turn and started for Darkwing's hideout.

Once inside the tower, Darkwing released the Eggmen a couple feet above the floor; they collapsed in a heap, unhurt, as Launchpad set the Thunderquack down.  As they were getting out of the plane, Darkwing heard his name.

"Darkwing!  Launchpad!"   Gizmoduck rolled towards them from where he had been waiting near the window.  "Taurus Bulba has escaped--"

"Edgar, it's Gizmoduck!" Norton cried.  From where he lay on the floor, he fumbled for his gun and aimed it at Gizmoduck.  Before he could fire it, a mechanical hand snaked out of Gizmoduck's suit and plucked the gun from Norton's grasp.

"Norton, get offa me!" Edgar wheezed; one foot was all that was visible, sticking out from under the much larger Eggman.

"Uh, sorry."  Norton scrambled off of him.  Panting, Edgar sat up and pulled his gun out of its holster, only to have Gizmoduck snatch it away too.

"You lied to us!" Norton told the superhero reproachfully.  "You said you was gonna come back, and you  didn't!"

"I _told_ you that good guys lie too," Edgar groaned.

"I, uh. . . I'm sorry," Gizmoduck stammered.  "But--"

"But we have a much bigger problem on our hands!" Darkwing interrupted, stomping over to the other three ducks.  "You said Bulba escaped?"

Gizmoduck nodded miserably.  "I went back to the hideout, but he _and_ his goons were gone.  He must be out looking for me right now."  While they spoke, the Eggmen had gotten to their feet and were trying to sneak away.  Gizmoduck extended his arms to twice their normal length and grabbed an Eggman in each hand without even looking at them.

"I realized something else as well-- Bulba knows that Steelbeak's after my suit too, so I bet he's going to go look for me at F.O.W.L. headquarters."

"Great!" Darkwing exclaimed.  "We'll just let him and High Command battle it out, then I'll sweep in and clean up the leftovers!"

Gizmoduck frowned.  "There's just one problem."

Darkwing sighed extravagantly.  "Okay, okay, _we'll_ sweep in and--"

"It's not that."   Gizmoduck drew his arms in, pulling the Eggmen back into the conversation.  "Norton and Edgar said that F.O.W.L. has captured Gyro Gearloose!"

"'Norton and Edgar'?  You're on a first-name basis now?" Darkwing said, raising an eyebrow.

However, Launchpad cried, "Gyro?  What would F.O.W.L. want with him?"

"Another Gizmosuit, whaddya t'ink, ya loony?" Edgar snapped.  "High Command had Steelbeak go pick 'im up, just in case we couldn't catch Crackshell here."

"Who the heck is this Gyro person?" Darkwing interrupted.

"He invented my suit," Gizmoduck explained.  "He works for Scrooge McDuck, just like Launchpad and I used to."

"He also used to work for the D.I.A.," Launchpad added, "but he quit after I, uh, broke most of the stuff he made for 'em.  Fighting F.O.W.L., I might add," he said with a glare at the Eggmen.

Darkwing stared at him.  "You mean you'd dealt with F.O.W.L. before you met me?"

"Of course!"  Launchpad thrust his chest out proudly.  "Who do you think got rid of Dr. NoGood?"

"D-dr. NoGood?" Darkwing gaped.  "The founder of F.O.W.L.?  _You_ were the one who killed him?"

"Uh, well, sorta."  Launchpad gave him an embarrassed grin.  "I did have help."

"Can this wait?" Gizmoduck interrupted impatiently.  "The important thing is that Gyro is at F.O.W.L.'s headquarters-- and I bet Bulba will be too before long!"

"Aw c'mon," Edgar protested.  "Nobody knows where headquarters is, 'cept for us dat work for F.O.W.L.  He'll never find it."

"Maybe not on his own, but a chain is only as strong as its weakest link!" declared Gizmoduck.

The Eggmen looked at him blankly.   "Hunh?"  Norton asked.

Darkwing groaned.  "What he's _saying_ is this.  Bulba caught you two pretty easily, right?  So all he has to do is catch another F.O.W.L. operative and put a little pressure on him.  If he had one of _you_ two back, I bet you'd tell him where H.Q. is, along with anything else he wanted to know."

"Y-you're not going to give us back to him, are you?" Norton whimpered.

"Of course not!" Darkwing snapped.  "But there are plenty of other Eggmen out there-- not to mention Steelbeak.  He's a bigger coward than the rest of you put together."

"Hey, da boss would never turn on F.O.W.L.," Edgar retorted, but it seemed to be an automatic response.  He hardly sounded like he believed it.

"That's debatable, but let's not give him the chance," Gizmoduck said.  "Not while Gyro's involved."

"So whaddya want _us_ to do?" Edgar grumbled.

Gizmoduck, Darkwing, and Launchpad looked at one another, all with the same idea.  Finally Darkwing looked back at the Eggmen and said with great reluctance.  "We can't stop Bulba on our own, and neither can F.O.W.L.  We have to work together."

"Ha!  High Command'd _never_ agree to _dat_."

"It's for F.O.W.L.'s own good," Darkwing growled.  "If Bulba finds your headquarters, F.O.W.L. will be finished; even High Command can't be so cocky as to imagine otherwise.  What we need is for you to get us in touch with High Command.  I'll explain the situation to them, and we'll see if they'll agree to a deal.  In _their_ best interests I might add."

"What kinda deal is dat?" Edgar asked, sounding curious in spite of himself.

"If they agree to give up on the Gizmosuit, we'll help them stop Bulba."

" _And_ ," Gizmoduck interrupted, "they have to let Gyro go.  In one piece."  Launchpad beamed at him, relieved.

"Dey ain't gonna agree to dat," Edgar told them.  "'Specially not Commander Beakford."  
  
"Beakford?  Which one is he?" Darkwing asked.

"She," corrected Edgar.  "Well. . . he _and_ she, but dis one's a she.  She's da short one wit' da teeth."  
  
"She, hunh?" Gizmoduck muttered.

"Da boss is scared stiff of 'er," Norton said in a confidential tone.  "I t'ink he _likes_ her."

"Norton, yer a moron," Edgar sighed.  "Anyway, she's da one dat had us kidnap Gearloose an' try to kidnap you, Crackshell. . . er, Gizmoduck.  She wants dat Gizmosuit more dan anyt'in'."

"Well, if she won't agree to our little deal, you'll just have to take us to headquarters yourself," Darkwing told them.  "We'll rescue this Gyro person and wait for Bulba to show up."

"I dunno," Edgar mumbled.  "I don't trust youse guys-- like I said, good guys lie too."

"I trust 'em," Norton said abruptly.  "Gizmoduck saved me from Bulba, and he didn't have to.  And dey're right.  Dis is da only chance we got against Bulba."

"But, dis is _Darkwing Duck_!" Edgar said, waving his short arms in exasperation.  "We're just gonna take him right to H.Q.?  Okay, so we can't handle Bulba by ourselves-- I believe _dat_ after what he did to Leonard.  But. . . ."

Norton looked down at Edgar, a smile on his big beak.  "T'ink of it like dat game you was tellin' me about, da lyin' game.  You said we play dat game to keep people from knowin' da truth, so's we stay in power.  Well dis time, it's da other way around.  We gotta be honest wit' each other to keep our power.  An' if we don't play, all of us lose-- Darkwing, an' Gizmoduck, _an'_ F.O.W.L."

"And me!" Launchpad added.

Edgar looked back up at Norton then sighed.  "Okay, okay.  We'll try.  We ain't got our video phones though-- Bulba took 'em."

"Here, you can use mine," Darkwing said reluctantly, leading them over to his computer console.  "Just _don't break it!_ "

He, Gizmoduck, and Launchpad stood off to one side out of the video camera's range while Edgar contacted High Command through a series of numbers none of the heroes could follow.  There was a blizzard of static, then it cleared to reveal High Command's conference room.  However there was only one silhouette there, that of a hulking raven.

"High Command, dis is Edgar an' Norton, reportin' in," Edgar said a little shakily.

The commander's yellow eyes, the only part of him visible, widened and he leaned forward.  "You escaped from Bulba--?"

"Yes sir.  Bulba killed Leonard, but Gizmoduck, he. . . he helped us escape.  We wanted to make a report to Commander Beakford."

"She isn't here; she and Agent Steelbeak are out looking for you.  You two should come in immediately, and I'll try to contact her."  He paused, then looked at them suspiciously.  "Where are you?"

Edgar looked at Norton, then back at the screen.  "Uh, before you call her, dere's sumtin' we wanna talk to you about."

"What is it?" the commander asked.  He sounded impatient, but Darkwing was still impressed that he was willing to listen to the Eggmen at all.

Edgar looked from the screen to where Darkwing, Gizmoduck, and Launchpad were waiting.  Darkwing drew in his breath and walked over to stand behind Edgar, followed by Gizmoduck.

" _Gizmoduck_ ," the commander gasped.

Darkwing glared.  " _Ahem_."

"Oh, and you."  The commander glared down at the Eggmen.  "What's going on?"

"We have a proposition for you, High Command," Darkwing said before the Eggmen could reply.  He expected an immediate dismissal of the idea, but again the commander surprised him.

"A proposition regarding what?" he said.

"Taurus Bulba, and the fact that he's probably trying to find your headquarters right now."

"Hmm."  The raven gave him a long, hard look, then folded his hands on the desk in front of him.  "Go on, Darkwing Duck.  I'm listening."

\--

Belle was awakened by the ring of her videophone.  She groaned and lifted her head to glare at her clock; it read just after 3 a.m.  She fumbled for the phone which was lying on her nightstand and flipped it open, squinting in the light of its display.  Commander Chogan was silhouetted on the small screen, the yellowish reflection of his eyes the only feature distinguishable in his face.

"What is it?" Belle muttered, sitting up and raking a hand through her head-feathers.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Chogan said, "but. . . I think you should come in."

"What's happened?"  Fully awake now, she clutched the phone in both hands and looked down at the crow's silhouette.

"Two of the missing Eggmen have returned."

"What?" Belle breathed.  "They're back?"

"Yes, but Taurus Bulba killed the other one who was captured.  The two who survived let Crackshell escape."

"Why am I not surprised," she muttered.

"You will be when you find out how it happened," Chogan sighed.  "We have to start hiring some more intelligent thugs."

"Where's Crackshell?"

"I sent some of the other Eggmen to search for him, but they've had no luck," Chogan informed her.

"All right.  And. . . what about Bulba?" Belle asked, dreading even the thought of him interfering with their plans once more.

"There's no sign of him yet, but he's probably searching for Crackshell too."  Chogan's eyes moved to look around her.  "Where's Steelbeak?"

Belle felt her cheeks grow hot beneath her feathers.  "Not here!  He went home hours ago."  She regulated her tone and said brusquely, "We were both too tired to search anymore."

"I wasn't implying anything," Chogan muttered.  He must have been pretty tired too to be showing emotion; usually he exhibited about as much personality as the computers with which he spent most of   
his time.  This wasn't the time to worry about it, though.

"What do you want me to do about the situation?" she asked instead.  "If you've got the Eggmen but not Crackshell, there's no reason for me to be there.  Should I start looking for Crackshell again?"

"No, as I said, I think you should come in."  He hesitated, then went on, "Frankly, I'm worried.  From what the Eggmen said, Bulba will stop at nothing to get that suit.  And now that he knows we want it too. . . ."

"Then why didn't you send someone out to look for _him_?" Belle asked in exasperation.

"Because anyone who found him would be pulverized!" Chogan growled.  "He didn't just kill that Eggman; he _vaporized_ him.  Belle, I need you _here_ in one piece, not as a pile of ash somewhere!"

Belle stared down at the phone blankly.  She couldn't remember the last time someone had called her by her first name.  "All right," she finally said in a tight voice.  "I'll be there in a few moments."  She snapped her phone shut before he could respond, then got out of bed and began to dress.

Something was wrong; she could tell that much.  Then it struck her: what if Chogan suspected that Bulba might find F.O.W.L.'s headquarters?  She hadn't seen Beau's plans for Bulba's cyborg body, but if the renegade agent had the kind of firepower Chogan was implying. . . .

 _He could destroy us,_ Belle thought.  She pulled her turtleneck over her head and practically ran for the door.

**\--**

To be continued


	11. Chapter 11

As Belle had promised, the legion of Eggmen was in place by the time the sun rose.  That was the least difficult part of the operation, despite the fact that there were over fifty of them to arrange.  Darkwing Duck expressed surprise at how many goons F.O.W.L. employed, but as Steelbeak had said, Eggmen were expendable.

The hard part had been dealing with the rest of High Command and Steelbeak, especially once they found out that Belle and Chogan expected them to work with Darkwing and Gizmoduck.  Aquila eventually saw the merit of the plan, but Beau continued to protest even after the Eggmen were already in place.

"This is your most idiotic idea ever," he snarled at Belle as they reviewed the Eggmen who were stationed throughout the foyer and hallways leading into the compound.  If Bulba and his own thugs appeared, the Eggmen were to detain the thugs at all costs but to leave Bulba alone.  From Norton and Edgar's description of Leonard's death, High Command knew that no number of Eggmen could stop the cyborg.

"Think what you want," Belle retorted.  "It's the only possible way we can stop Bulba."

"And what makes you so sure he's going to turn up here?" Beau persisted.  "He could have other plans entirely."

"I've already taken care of that.  We're sending out two Eggmen as bait once we're sure we're ready."

"So the big heroes thought that Bulba _might_ show up here and do some damage-- and your plan is to make _sure_ he shows up and hope that we can take him?  Brilliant," Beau grumbled.

Back in the conference room with the others, Darkwing outlined his plan once more: he, Gizmoduck, Launchpad, and the very reluctant (not to mention irate) Steelbeak would wait in the conference room to ambush Bulba once the Eggmen had detained the cyborg's goons and Bulba was alone.  High Command would barricade themselves in the basement with Gearloose, which was the only part of the plan Beau liked.

"You four dopes really think you can stop _Taurus Bulba_?" he growled.

"Hey, High Command, I'm wit' you, ah ah ah ah ah," Steelbeak laughed nervously.  "Anytime you wanna call it off, just say the word!"

"Listen, pal, the way I hear it, _you're_ the reason Bulba's even still alive, so back off!" Darkwing snapped at Beau, ignoring Steelbeak entirely.  "Next time you have the urge to resurrect a supervillain as an indestructible cyborg, try to resist!"

"Silence!" Aquila roared.  "Both of you!"  Beau gave the vulture an infuriated look, but he and Darkwing did fall silent.  "Send out the Eggmen, Commander Beakford," Aquila went on with a nod at Belle.  "The sooner this is over with, the better."

Belle nodded and radioed the two Eggmen who had the misfortune to be chosen for the job.  She had deliberately not picked Norton and Edgar on the chance that Bulba might recognize them; those two were somewhere in the line of defense.  Once the chosen two had been deployed, the rest of High Command retreated to the basement.  Belle hesitated at the top of the stairs and looked back at the four avians who were staying behind.

"Are you _sure_ you can handle this?" she asked Darkwing.

"What are you so concerned about?" he glared back at her.  "Your brother or doppelganger or whatever he is may be the one who resurrected Bulba, but it's _your_ fault he's after the Gizmosuit, and _your_ fault he's coming here."

"I'm perfectly aware of that," Belle said flatly, "but it's beside the point.  _Can you stop him_?"

Darkwing looked at her silently, then said, "Yes."

She nodded.  "We'll be monitoring you from the basement."  Against her better judgment, she glanced at Steelbeak.  He was watching her  with a slight frown on his metal beak.  She turned away from him and looked at Gizmoduck instead.  "Be careful."

At first Gizmoduck only nodded faintly, barely even moving his head, but then he said quietly, "We will."

\--

Taurus Bulba had ordered Hammerhead to monitor St. Canard's police dispatches, so it was the ram who intercepted the alert that two F.O.W.L. Eggmen had been spotted breaking into the National Bank branch located in downtown St. Canard.  Hammerhead had never been so happy to overhear a message in his life.  Bulba hadn't been in the best of moods since Fenton Crackshell had escaped his grasp and presumably fallen right into the hands of F.O.W.L., so  Hammerhead was relieved that it wouldn't take long to carry out the bull's plans to apprehend more Eggmen and wring Crackshell's location out of them by whatever means necessary.

"Do _we_ have to come?" Mouth asked even as Hammerhead shoved him and Hoof into the car they had stolen that morning.  "I don't like those Eggmen very much!"

Hoof nodded emphatically, but Hammerhead only rolled his eyes and climbed into the driver's seat.  "Yer lucky the boss didn't chop ya up fer mutton after you let the last two escape _with_ Gizmoduck.  If you want to remain employed, not to mention _alive_ , you'd better make yerselves real useful."

"You have a point," Mouth said weakly.

Police were already swarming over the bank by the time Hammerhead pulled up a block away.   The goat swore under his breath; the cops didn't seem to have captured the Eggmen, but naturally they would interfere with Hammerhead's plans.

"What are we going to do?" Mouth asked unhappily.  "It looks like the Eggmen got away."

Hammerhead whapped him in the back of the head.  "Don't ya think I can see that, ya load?  C'mon."  He started to get out of the car.  "We can at least look around for 'em."

The three goons slunk closer to the bank, finally stopping on a street corner  directly across from it.  They blended in well enough with the small crowd of gawkers who had gathered to watch the proceedings, and the cops paid them no attention.  At one point, Hammerhead saw out of the corner of his eye a slight movement in the street to their right, but when he looked there was nothing there but a closed manhole.

The goat frowned; manhole covers did not, in his experience, move by themselves.  He nudged Mouth and jerked his head to one side, motioning for the other two to follow him.  Unnoticed by the rest of the crowd, they walked slowly past the manhole.

"What?" Mouth asked, looking around blankly.  "What did you want to come over here for?"

" _Shaddup_!"  Hammerhead whapped him again, then knelt and grasped the heavy cover, lifting it off easily.  Two generic Eggmen, both of a medium size, were crouched in the sewer below, peering up at him nervously.

"Well, this is just regular Easter Egg hunt, ain't it?" Hammerhead chuckled.  The Eggmen tensed as if they were about to make a dash for it through the sewers, and the goat said quickly, "You boys got a choice.  Either come with us, or we tell da cops yer down there.  I doubt da three of _us_ could catch you, but I'd say da entire St. Canard police force got a pretty damn good chance."

The Eggmen looked at each other, then back up at Hammerhead.  "But if we come out here, da cops'll see us," one of them said.

"We're parked a block to yer right," Hammerhead told them.  "Come up at da manhole over dere-- unless ya change yer mind about the cops."

Hammerhead's suspicions that the Eggmen would do anything to avoid the police proved true; the two yellow-suited thugs, one clutching a bag stamped with the bank's logo, were climbing out of the sewer from the manhole near Hammerhead's car by the time the goat reached it.  The Eggmen were stuffed in the backseat between Hoof and Mouth-- a position which seemed to be becoming a regular thing-- and Hammerhead took off for Bulba's temporary new hideout in an abandoned factory on the edge of town.

"You are back already?" Bulba asked skeptically when Hammerhead reverently entered the plant manager's office, which the bull had claimed for himself.  Clovis was there as well, tightening bolts on Bulba's claw arm.

"We caught two Eggmen," Hammerhead said breathlessly.  Bulba gave him a look of complete surprise, then he smiled faintly.

"Excellent.  I am quite impressed.  Bring them in."

Hammerhead stuck his head out the door and gestured to Hoof and Mouth, who were holding the Eggmen just outside.  After they had dragged the two ducks in, Bulba stood and towered over them.  Hoof and Mouth backed away nervously.

"Ah, more F.O.W.L. operatives.  I have a few questions for you."  Bulba looked them over, then eyed the bank bag that one was still holding.  "Rather small change for a bank heist, is it not?"

"Uh, High Command was in a real hurry," the Eggman with the bag stammered.  "In fact, dey're probably very anxious for us to return.  An' dey won't be happy if you take dere money."

"Do not worry, my feathered friends.  I am not the least bit interested in High Command's _money_."  Bulba leaned down, his single eye glaring redly.  "No, I am only interested in one thing. _Where is Gizmoduck_?"

"G-gizmoduck?  Wh-why do ya t'ink we know where-- ack!" the Eggman quacked in a choked voice as Bulba grasped the front of his uniform in his claw and lifted him clear off the ground.  The other Eggman tried to back away, but Bulba caught him up as well, holding both above his head and snarling up at them.

"I had him, and your idiotic compatriots had the _audacity_ to escape with him!  _Where did they take him_?"  
  
"Uh, boss, maybe you'd better calm down--" Hammerhead tried to intervene-- until Bulba rounded on him, his body trembling with anger.

"Yipe," the goat squeaked, certain that he was going to go the way of the last medium-sized Eggman Bulba dealt with.  Then Clovis stepped forward, her face composed and serious.

"Taurus Bulba," she said quietly, putting her small hand on the portion of Bulba's chest that was organic.  His chest heaved for breath, then it stilled under her touch.

Bulba gave her an almost imperceptible nod and lowered the Eggmen to the ground.  Though he set them down gently, their knees buckled and they collapsed, shaking.

"Where is Gizmoduck?" Bulba asked them again.

"High Command has him," the one still holding the bank bag panted.  "He was brought to da headquarters last night."

"And his suit?" Bulba persisted.

"Dey got dat too."

"Crackshell told them where the suit was?" the bull asked  with faint bemusement.  "He would not tell me even after I killed one of your cohorts in front of him."

The two looked at each other with slightly panicked expressions, then one stammered, "Yeah, uh, High Command has one a' his friends too-- da guy who invented da Gizmosuit.  Dey said dey'd kill him if Crackshell didn't tell where da suit was."

"Ah.  That _does_ sound like a strategy that would work on such a pure heart as Gizmoduck," Bulba mused.  He said the words "pure heart" matter-of-factly, without a hint of irony or mocking.  "How unfortunate that I did not have that sort of collateral.  But no matter.  Where is this headquarters of yours?"

After the Eggman told him, Bulba nodded.  "I know the building.  To think, all the times I have passed it, I did not know that that _miserable_ High Command was holed up inside."  Hammerhead was afraid Bulba was going to get angry again, but the bull only chuckled.  "Thank you, my friends.  You have been most helpful."

He bent down and the Eggmen cringed, as if they expected to be struck.  However, Bulba only snatched the bank bag from them and tossed it aside without looking at its contents.  The Eggmen sighed with relief as Bulba straightened up.

Only Clovis had her eyes on Bulba as he casually lifted his arm and vaporized first one Eggmen, then with a flick of his mechanical wrist the other.  Mouth yelped in surprise and pressed his back to the wall of the office, and Hoof and Hammerhead drew back, wincing.  Clovis only stood with her hands clasped behind her back waiting.

Bulba took no notice of his goons' reaction.  "You have done well," he told them as he stalked toward the door of his office.  "You may divide amongst yourselves whatever is in the bag, then come with me.  We shall pay High Command a courtesy visit."

Clovis followed Bulba out of the office.  The three goons looked at one another, then leapt for the bag.  Hammerhead got to it first and yanked it open, only to growl in disappointment, "Dere's no money in here!  It's just suckers from da drive-through!"

"Oh boy!" Mouth cried happily, shoving his hand into the sack.  "I love these things!"

Hammerhead scowled, letting the other two vie for the bag of candy as he went after Bulba and Clovis.  What kind of morons would break into a bank and steal the suckers instead of the money?  He doubted that even Eggmen were dumb enough to make that kind of mistake, leading him to think that there was something suspicious about the whole situation.  He briefly considered telling Bulba that the robbery hadn't involved money at all, but then he approached the factory's entrance and saw Bulba through its open dock door.  The cyborg seemed to be giving instructions to Clovis, who was getting into the driver's seat of the stolen car.

 _If I tell him, he'll just get mad again-- and after what he did to those Eggmen, I don't want to be around when that happens,_ Hammerhead thought.   No, better to keep the sucker incident to himself.   He couldn’t see how it would make much of a difference anyway.

\--

Fenton wondered how they would know when High Command's plan had worked-- _if_ it worked.  Its success depended on how clearly Taurus Bulba was thinking.  Fenton was positive that the cyborg was intelligent enough to see through two planted Eggmen under normal circumstances; however, if Bulba were infuriated and desperate, he might not question his luck at finding a ticket to learning where F.O.W.L. supposedly held the Gizmosuit.  Fenton hoped that Bulba _was_ desperate enough, and that he really did believe F.O.W.L. had the suit.

Even when he tried not to worry about that, Fenton was concerned that Bulba would be able to sneak up on them, taking them by surprise instead of the other way around.  Fenton had no idea of how to use High Command's monitoring equipment to watch the building's entrances, and since the conference room was windowless and located in the center of the building's ground floor, it was impossible to know what was going on outside.

So he thought for over an hour after High Command sent out the bait-Eggmen, while he and the other three waited tensely for something to happen.  They hardly spoke; Steelbeak sulked in a corner and meticulously trimmed and buffed his nails while Darkwing paced.  Launchpad and Fenton, in the Gizmosuit, attempted to decipher the monitoring equipment, then upon failing sat at High Command's table in silence.

Fenton's question was answered soon after the hour had passed, when a great impact shook the very foundations of the building.

"What the heck was that?" Launchpad gasped, clutching the edge of the desk.

"I have a feeling _that_ was Taurus Bulba," Darkwing muttered.  "Are _they_ monitoring this room?" he growled at Steelbeak, jerking a thumb towards the basement where High Command had fled.

The rooster shrugged.  "Probably.  They have t'is place wired from top to bottom."

"Damn," Darkwing sighed.  "But I guess it doesn't matter at this point.  Steelbeak, what we have to do is make Bulba as angry as possible."

" _What_?" the rooster squawked.  "You know what happened the _last_ time I made him angry?  He nearly fried me!"

"Yeah, but you also saw how he freezes up when he gets angry enough," Darkwing retorted.  "And from what Gizmoduck says, I think Bulba's more emotionally unstable than ever.  If we make him really, _really_ angry it may be enough to destroy him."

"And t'is is yer big plan?" Steelbeak cried.  "Piss off the ragin' bull and hope he fries his circuits 'fore he fries _us_?  T'at's just _brilliant_."

"I don't see you or the rest of F.O.W.L. with any better ideas, _Steelie_ ," Darkwing snapped.  "High Command's solution-- to a problem _they_ created, I might add-- seems to be to hide under the bed!"

"An' I don't see nuttin' wrong wit' t'at!"

Fenton had watched the exchange in silence, planning on letting the two just sort it out themselves, but then he felt the floor begin to vibrate again rhythmically-- as if heavy footfalls were coming nearer and nearer to the room where they were waiting.

"Steelbeak, we need your help!" Fenton implored him, rolling out from behind the desk.  "Bulba hates you almost as much as he hates Darkwing--"

"Thanks, Giz," Darkwing grumbled.

"--and we have to all work to divert his attention from one another so that he doesn't have time to attack any one of us."  He took a deep breath, then added, "I won't let him kill you.  I promise."

Steelbeak glared at him.  "Yeah, well I been hearin' a lotta lies lately, even from High Command-- _especially_ from High Command," he added with a glare at the basement door.  "Why should I trust _you_?"

Fenton never got a chance to reply because the heavy footfalls had reached the conference room.  The door burst open off its hinges, and the four found themselves staring up at a livid Taurus Bulba.

"Ah.  I see that those insipid agents were not lying after all.  The Gizmosuit _is_ here."

Fenton saw that Steelbeak was shaking as he backed away from the cyborg, moving so that the conference desk was between himself and Bulba.  For once, Fenton could not at all blame him for his actions: Fenton was every bit as terrified as Steelbeak, even from within the safety of the Gizmosuit.

However, if Darkwing Duck was scared, he didn't show it.  "Give it up, Bulba!" he called.  "You'll never get the suit.  Why don't you just let it go and put yourself out to pasture?"

If his plan was to anger Bulba, it seemed to be working.  The bull's red eye flashed and he snorted indignantly.  
  
"Darkwing Duck-- you have been a thorn in my side for far too long.  I had hopes that you would learn to stay out of affairs that do not concern you, but no. . . you are too stupid for that."  He raised his arm and switched the "hand" to its gun muzzle attachment.

Darkwing just stood there, apparently expecting to engage in more insulting dialogue, but Fenton knew better.  He rolled at full speed in front of Darkwing just in time; the laser meant to pulverize the masked duck hit the chest-plate of the Gizmosuit instead.

"Gizmoduck!" Launchpad cried from between Darkwing and Steelbeak.  However, the laser beam merely bounced harmlessly off of the Gizmosuit and did no damage other than to shoot a hole in the wall of the conference room.

"So it really _is_ indestructible," Bulba said with a faint chuckle.  "Quite impressive.  But you cannot protect your friends forever, Gizmoduck."

Fenton  rolled forward slightly and, in as fierce a voice as he could muster, growled, "Try me."

He half-expected Bulba to start blasting everything in sight, but the cyborg only regarded him a moment in silence.  "Are you not scared of me, duck?  I have seen what you are without that suit. . . _nothing_.  Just as I am nothing without these accursed metal parts F.O.W.L. foolishly attached to me."  Bulba smiled, possibly the most terrible sight Fenton had ever witnessed.  "Does that not terrify you, to be nothing?"

Fenton wanted to lie to him, to tell Bulba of course he wasn't afraid-- with the suit he was indestructible; he was _somebody_.  But for some reason, he imagined Norton's reproachful accusation, "You lied to us!" and Edgar's response that good guys lied too.

 _Not when we don't have to,_ Fenton thought.

"Of course I'm scared of you," he told Bulba, not even realizing that his voice sounded much more like Fenton Crackshell's than Gizmoduck's.  "And maybe I _am_ nothing without this stupid suit.  But I'm not like _you_.  You. . . you _disgust_ me.  Before you, I'd never seen anyone with such a disregard for human life.  No matter what I am, I'd never kill anyone-- not even my enemy-- the way you killed that Eggman.  And neither would Darkwing-- not even High Command would do that!"

Again, Bulba surprised him: Fenton had believed he would merely laugh at such sentiments, but again the bull just looked at him thoughtfully.  "This is undoubtedly true about such _heroes_ as yourself and Darkwing Duck.  But I believe in your naïveté you have misjudged F.O.W.L.  After all--"  He held out his arms.  "--they did _this_ to me."

"No," Fenton said quietly.  "High Command-- one of them had the chance to kill me.  Twice.  She didn't."

This time Bulba did smirk somewhat, though the gesture was entirely without humor.  "Then perhaps I am the one to have misjudged F.O.W.L.-- they are apparently as weak as they are foolish.  Fortunately, I am without either fault."  He raised his arm again then paused, looking at Fenton expectantly.  "Well, to return to matters of greater importance.  Are you ready to be. . . tried?"

\--

To be continued


	12. Chapter 12

When Bulba and his thugs broke into headquarters, Belle felt almost relieved.  Finally, after tense days of waiting and maneuvering, it would be over soon, one way or another.  She was dangerously close to not caring which way it happened.

The basement's only connection with the rest of the compound was a single monitor with a switchboard to control which video feed was displayed.  As soon as they felt the building's foundations shake at Bulba's entry, Chogan switched the monitor to show the foyer at the entrance, where the Eggmen were stationed.  The four commanders watched as Bulba stomped into the building, flanked by his three goons and his secretary Clovis.

They were immediately swarmed with Eggmen, according to plan.  Bulba idly swept the ones closest to him out of the way as if they were of no greater consequence than houseflies.  However as the cyborg moved forward, deeper into the building, his associates were detained by the Eggmen.  Hoof and Mouth were taken down fairly easily; even though they drew revolvers, a few of the largest Eggmen overcame them before they could fire, and the two were disarmed and knocked them to the floor.

Hammerhead proved to be more trouble.  He pulled out his own revolver and got off two precise shots, each of which struck an Eggman; they were swallowed up by the crowd of yellow jumpsuits before Belle could tell if the shots were fatal.  Just after the second shot, Edgar was able to slip up beside Hammerhead unnoticed and knock the revolver out of his hand.  It went flying into the crowd as Hammerhead rounded on Edgar furiously.  Even Belle cringed as the goat lowered his head, backed up a pace, and rammed the tiny Eggman with his horns.  Poor Edgar went flying as well.  Seeing this, another large Eggman growled and jumped Hammerhead from behind, followed by several others.

High Command's attention was diverted from the goon battle by a tremendous crash from the neighboring room.  Chogan cringed and switched the video feed to display the conference room; the last Belle saw of the Eggmen, several were being whacked on the head by Clovis van de Cudd, who had as a weapon the portrait of Dr. NoGood which had been hanging on the foyer wall up until that point.

Taurus Bulba had breached the conference room and was firing his arm's laser at Darkwing Duck.  Belle tensed-- whether out of fear or hope that Bulba would kill Darkwing, she wasn't sure--but Gizmoduck threw himself between the two.  She watched the ensuing discussion impatiently. . . until Fenton said, "High Command-- one of them had the chance to kill me.  Twice.  She didn't."  Belle bit her lower beak as the other three commanders looked at her, Beau glaring daggers as he did so.

"Nice going, sis.  If you had just killed the little twerp--"

"Shh!" hissed Chogan, gesturing back at the monitor as Bulba responded to Gizmoduck.

"Are you ready to be. . . tried?"

Gizmoduck looked back at Darkwing who gave him a slight nod, then Gizmoduck turned back to Bulba.  "Bring it on, you. . . you son of a heifer!"

High Command stared at one another.

" _What_?" Bulba snarled.  He raised his laser arm and backhanded Gizmoduck, who rolled backwards about a foot but was otherwise unharmed.

"You heard him!" Darkwing challenged, then muttered, "Although I wish he had come up with a better insult."  More loudly, he went on, "Your mother was a big, fat _heifer_!"

Beau snickered.  "Are they _trying_ to get killed?"

"They're trying to do _something_ ," Belle murmured.

" _Silence_!" Bulba bellowed.  He aimed one of his horns at Darkwing and fired it, but the masked duck was ready this time, and he easily darted out of the way.

"Why dontcha take your own advice?" Launchpad McQuack called.  Until that point he had remained in the background, but he now moved to stand just behind Gizmoduck.  "That accent of yours is _really_ gettin' on my nerves!"

Bulba literally steamed as Belle realized, _They're **trying** to make him mad._

"Steelbeak said that Bulba shut down when he got too angry," Chogan said suddenly, echoing her thoughts.  "They're trying to overload him!"

In spite of everything, Belle felt the corners of beak twitch with the desire to smile.  "Death by insult. . . I can't think of a more pleasant way to destroy Taurus Bulba."

Outside in the conference room, the heroes had arranged themselves in a rough circle about Bulba with Steelbeak reluctantly covering the fourth quadrant of the ring.  The four took turns shouting insults at Bulba (although, Belle noticed, Steelbeak took fewer turns than the rest); with each slur, the bull grew more furious as evidenced by his glaring red eye and irate snorts.

"Give it up, you deranged cow pie!" Darkwing shouted at Bulba.  Belle groaned to herself; leave it to Darkwing Duck to carry out the plan with an infantile lack of finesse.  His words seemed to be effective however; Bulba rounded on him with a snarl, aiming one of his horn lasers at the duck.

"Blithering tub of beef bouillon!" Gizmoduck crowed before Bulba had a chance to fire.  _That's more like it,_ Belle thought.

The cyborg spun towards Gizmoduck and readjusted his horn, but McQuack yelled, "Ya big, flabby--"

Bulba pawed at the ground and charged at McQuack, who yelped and took a running leap into Gizmoduck's arms.  Gizmoduck wobbled and rolled backwards under the added weight as Bulba's metal head crashed into the wall.

"Great," Beau groaned, "I guess I should start keeping a list of needed repairs.  This is going to be hell on the budget."

Gizmoduck deposited McQuack back on his feet, and the verbal war continued.  Bulba attacked a couple more times but without damage-- until Steelbeak shouted from behind High Command's desk, "Hey Bulba, I figured out what yer problem is-- ya probably caught mad cow disease from eatin' at the Hungry Hippo, ah ah ah ah-- ACK!"

The "ack" which cut off Steelbeak's infuriating laugh came when Bulba pierced his chest with a laser beam from his left horn.  Belle gasped and started up from the crate on which she had been sitting as the rooster collapsed behind the desk.  Bulba's expression never changed from its intent, blind fury: he showed no triumph or satisfaction as he turned away from where Steelbeak had stood and faced the heroes.  They were staring at him, and for the first time that day, Belle saw actual fear on Darkwing's face.  Gizmoduck's beak was open, its lower half trembling slightly.  Then the three renewed their barrage of taunts and dodges, as if nothing had happened.

_They have to,_ Belle thought robotically, aware that she was now standing and that her small hands shook.  She clenched them into fists against her thighs.  _He'll shoot them all down if they don't keep moving._   Then, as if it were a logical continuation of her previous thought, _At least Bulba didn't use the laser on his arm.  There would be nothing left. . . ._

She started for the basement stairs before she was even conscious of her movement.  The other three commanders stared at her.

"Commander Beakford, what are you doing?" Aquila barked.

"I'm not going to sit here and let him destroy  F.O.W.L.," Belle growled.  She ran up the stairs and lifted the bar holding the door shut.  "Somebody's got to help them."

"Belle, _don't_ ," Chogan protested, but she barely heard him.

When the door clicked shut behind her, Belle felt, for the first time since the whole fiasco began, a tiny thread of fear trickle down her spine.  She wouldn't be able to get back into the safety of the basement without a retinal scan, something for which there wouldn't be time if Bulba attacked her.

Bulba however had not even noticed her; his back was to the basement, and he was engrossed with Darkwing, Gizmoduck, and McQuack.  Steelbeak was slumped behind the desk, and Belle crouched down next to him, out of Bulba's line of vision.  Belle grasped the rooster's pristinely polished shoes, hauling on them in an attempt to drag him underneath the desk.  He was a dead weight even though she could now see that he was still breathing, and it took her an instant to get enough momentum built up to move him.

Once they were more or less safely under the cover of the desk, Belle looked down at his chest.  There was a singed hole an inch wide on the right side of his tuxedo jacket.  She ripped open his jacket and shirt to examine the wound through the hole left in his undershirt.  The wound seemed very deep yet was not bleeding.  She had expected blood, and for a moment the sight of the wound without it was actually more unnerving than a bloody mess would have been.  _The laser must have cauterized it_ , she finally realized.  The hole in the upper part of Steelbeak's right pectoral muscle was only about a centimeter across, but its depth was what concerned her.

Steelbeak stirred before Belle could decide what to do; he tried to shift his right shoulder then winced, turning his head so that he could see the damage.

"Geez," he murmured faintly.  "An' to t'ink I just had t'is suit dry-cleaned."

"Your wardrobe should be the least of your concerns!" Belle hissed to mask her unspeakable relief that he appeared to be going to live.

Steelbeak started and raised his eyes to her.  "H-high Command--" he stammered.

"Stay here and _keep quiet_ ," Belle whispered harshly.  "Bulba probably thinks you're dead.  If this insane plan works, I'll get you medical attention when I can."

She started to rise, but Steelbeak grabbed her arm.  "Look, babe, you ain't got a chance--"

"What, you think those buffoons can handle Bulba better than I can?"  At first she snapped the words, but her irritation evaporated when she realized that he actually looked vaguely worried.  She added almost lightly, "I assumed you of all people knew how insulting I can be."

The corner of Steelbeak's beak twitched in a motion that was half smirk, half grimace of pain.  "Yeah.  You gotta point."

She pushed his hand off her arm and stood cautiously.  Bulba's back was still towards her, and she took the opportunity to emerge from behind the desk without drawing his attention to Steelbeak.

Bulba was advancing on Gizmoduck when Darkwing yelled, "Hey alfalfa-breath!  Scared to fight a _real_ hero?"

"I say!" Gizmoduck exclaimed indignantly, then he caught sight of Belle and stared.  Bulba shifted his left horn towards Darkwing, but Gizmoduck was too distracted to notice.

_Who would have guessed it would be up to me to help Darkwing Duck?_ Belle thought grimly.  Aloud, she said, not even raising her voice, "He's no match for a real hero-- and he's no match for F.O.W.L."

Bulba somehow heard her through his intent anger and spun around even as he fired the laser in his horn.  The beam went wild and careened into the wall to Belle's left, grazing the outside of her upper arm.

"Ahh!" she squawked at the sudden, burning pain and the smell of her singed sleeve, feathers, and flesh.  To her humiliation, tears started in her eyes though they dried instantly.

The red glare of Bulba's single eye seemed to pin Belle to the wall where she stood; she was unable to look at anyone but him.  At first his gaze was blank, unsure of who she was. . . then it cleared terribly and narrowed on her.

"F.O.W.L. High Command, is it not?" he breathed as he stepped closer, looming over her.  "I never thought I would see you face to face."

The trickle of fear Belle had felt now turned to a flood.  _I'm scared of him_ , she thought in wonder as much as in shame. Here was one person who could strike fear even in High Command.  _I should have stayed in the basement-- but Steelbeak--_

The fact that she had left complete safety for no reason other than concern for a subordinate, for _him_ , was more frightening than Taurus Bulba could ever be.  Belle actually smiled as she realized this, drawing open her beak upon her sharp teeth.  _All Bulba can do is kill me. . . and if he's going to do that, it might as well be while I'm doing what's best for F.O.W.L._

"You can't stop Darkwing Duck _or_ F.O.W.L., Bulba," she growled.  Her voice did not even shake.  For one instant the cyborg bull looked surprised, then the shock was consumed by fury.  Nevertheless, Belle plowed on.  "You're beneath our lowest agent-- beneath the _Eggmen_ \-- and certainly _far_ beneath Darkwing Duck."

The hulking cyborg snarled, scraping one foot against the ground.  Belle ignored this and said, with an unreasonable feeling of pleasure, "Gizmoduck _should_ be disgusted by you.  He may be mechanical, but underneath, he's still whole."

"And whose fault is it that I am not?" Bulba snarled, his voice thick with anger.

As if he hadn't spoken, Belle went on, "He's still a _man_ \--"

Anything else she tried to say was drowned in a savage roar from the bull.  He raised his arm towards her, the muzzle of its laser cannon gaping, and she had just enough time to wonder if it would hurt before--

" _Belle_!"  Someone yelled her name-- and only one person in the room could possibly know it.  She turned her head to stare at Steelbeak, wobbling slightly and leaning on the desk for support as he stood, just in time to see him haul back and throw something at Bulba.  Belle realized that the object was Steelbeak's F.O.W.L.-issue video phone as it hurtled into the fleshy side of Bulba's face.

Bulba's roar came again, more outraged this time, as he swatted at the phone and fired his arm's laser harmlessly into the ceiling.  Belle saw that it had blasted through several floors of the building even as she dashed away from the spot where she had been frozen.

"What the _hell_ was I t'inkin'?" Steelbeak yelped as Bulba turned towards him.  He let go of the edge of the desk and dropped back behind it as the bull advanced.

Belle staggered towards the heroes, who had gathered in a knot against the wall opposite the desk.  "We've got to hurry up," she rasped.  "He's going to kill us all if--"

"He won't kill anybody," Darkwing interrupted her firmly.  "I figured it out, what makes him angrier than anything else.  When you said that the lowest F.O.W.L. agent was better than him--"  A triumphant grin spread over his beak as he raised his voice and yelled at Bulba, "It's over, Bulba.  No matter how many of us you kill, you've lost."

The bull froze, barely a foot from the desk behind which Steelbeak cowered.  "And what have I lost, duck?" he said in a voice that was flat yet seething.

"Your spot on the totem pole-- heck, you're not even _on_ the pole anymore!"  Darkwing took a step forward as Bulba started to turn.  "You used to be the top villain in St. Canard-- maybe in the country!  But now, look at you-- no more than a stump in a tin can, dependent on your goons if you want so much as a little pocket change to fix your shoddy metal body!"

Belle glared at him; the "shoddy metal body" had cost F.O.W.L. millions.  Darkwing, however, did not notice and went on, "The other bad guys _laugh_ at you.  Negaduck and the Fearsome Five?  They say you're all washed up!"

Bulba's bulk heaved as he finally faced Darkwing and the others.  "Why you--"

Darkwing kept talking, jabbing his finger in Bulba's direction to emphasize his point.  "Moliarty gets more crimes committed on a bad day than you do in a week!  Jambalaya Jake told me he'd rather give up crawfish for life than end up a pansified metal city-boy like Taurus Bulba!  And you know who's more sophisticated, more efficient, and more worthy of my valuable time than you?"

Bulba was too furious to speak, and as he took a shaky step forward, Darkwing answered the question for him in the most scornful tone Belle had ever heard.  " _Tuskerninni._ "

The cyborg gave an affronted gasp and started to raise his cannon arm.  To Belle, he seemed to be moving in slow motion.  And then, he stopped, his arm half-raised.  His whole body trembled and his red eye rolled wildly in his head, but otherwise he did not move.

"Is this what you meant by him freezing up?" Gizmoduck asked cautiously.  Bulba's metal frame shook then actually began to steam.  His single organic eye grew wider.

"Uh, well--"  Darkwing backed up a step.  "N-not exactly.  He wasn't conscious the last time--"

All four of them jumped as bolts suddenly sprung loose first from Bulba's arm then from his hip.  The contraption of his metal body began to rattle, and smoke issued forth from his horns.

"D. W., I-I don't think this is what happened before," McQuack stammered.  
  
"Blathering blatherskite, he's going to blow!" Gizmoduck cried.  A spring popped out of the cannon arm as if to confirm his suspicions.  However, Belle wasn't sure until she looked into Taurus Bulba's face and saw something there that brought her much less pleasure than she had expected.

"Come on!"  She ran across the room towards the basement, giving the steaming, trembling mass of Bulba a wide berth.  "Into the basement-- it can withstand any explosion."

"Now wait just a minute!" Darkwing protested.  "If you think we're going to trust F.O.W.L. to--"  He broke off with a small yelp  as Bulba's arm fell off and smoke poured from the shoulder socket.

A second later he was at her side with the other two heroes following.  Belle stood before the retina scanner impatiently until the door finally opened on its pneumatic arm.  "Down there," she ordered, but she caught Gizmoduck's arm as he started to follow Darkwing and McQuack into the basement.

"Bring Steelbeak," she told him, gesturing at where the rooster was slumped behind the desk.  Gizmoduck looked down at her incredulously, his beak opening.

" _Please_ ," Belle said.

She didn't move until Gizmoduck had scooped up Steelbeak in his arms and bumped down the stairs into the basement; then she followed, barring the door behind them.

"What the hell is going on?" Beau yelled, waving his arms in the air.  "You're going to let that equipment just _self-destruct_ after everything I did to--"

Commander Aquila reached over and clamped his hand over Beau's beak.  "Commander Beakford?  Shut up."

The explosion shook the basement before anyone had a chance to speak again.  Gizmoduck gasped and rocked backward on his wheel, but Belle only slumped against the basement wall, closing her eyes.  Instead of the triumph she wanted to feel, she simply felt heavy and tired.  Even when she raised her eyelids again, instead of the shocked, tentatively relieved faces of High Command and the others, she saw Taurus Bulba's face and the expression of utter terror she had witnessed in it when he realized he was going to die, again.

\--

To be continued


	13. Chapter 13

Fenton, cocooned in the Gizmosuit, emerged first from the basement on the chance that the horrendous explosion had come from something other than Taurus Bulba's destruction.  However as soon as he looked around, he realized that the others needn't have worried: everything in the room had been destroyed, leaving only the rubble of High Command's desk and equipment and a gaping hole through the three floors above, through which he could now see sky.

"Geez, I had no idea he could get _that_ angry," Darkwing Duck mused.  "Good work, L.P.  And Giz," he added with a bit of reluctance.

"Hey!" Steelbeak complained weakly from where he had staggered up after the others.  "I helped too!  And _I_ even got hurt for--"

"And Steelbeak," Darkwing said through gritted teeth.

"All that wasted money," groaned one of High Command, the one who was almost identical to the woman.  "We'll have to move headquarters, and--"

"Where are the Eggmen and Bulba's henchmen?"  the vulture commander interrupted him.

"H-here we are, High Command."  Edgar's voice came shakily from the doorway leading out of the conference room.  He slunk into the room, much bruised and battered, with a handful of Eggmen following him.  "We heard da explosion."

"What about Bulba's men?" the vulture persisted.

Edgar winced and looked up at Norton, who was hulking just behind him, as if for support.  "Dey got away," the short Eggman finally admitted.

"Dozens of you couldn't stop four measly _mammals_?" the male duck with all the teeth snarled.

"Dat cow lady's gotta mean upper cut," Norton said, rubbing his lower beak ruefully.

"Da rest a' da Eggmen are on dere backs in da foyer," Edgar went on.  "Da explosion got some of 'em-- it knocked over dem busts a' da cat on dere heads."

"I knew that damn will would be an issue," the raven High Commander muttered.  "Only Dr. NoGood would have left instructions that his cat be memorialized."

"Any fatalities?" the female commander asked, speaking for the first time since the explosion.  Her husky voice sounded more hoarse than normal.  When the Eggmen looked at her blankly, she said in frustration, "Are any _dead_?"

"Oh, no ma'am.  Don't t'ink so anyway."

"Good."  She looked at the other commanders.  "I'll call the medical team in to treat them and Steelbeak."

"Gee, t'anks for rememberin' me," grumbled the rooster.

"What about them?"  The other duck commander jerked a thumb in the direction of where Fenton stood with Darkwing, Launchpad, and Gyro.

The woman-- Belle, Steelbeak had called her-- glanced at the heroes, then back.  "What _about_ them?"

"He has a point," the vulture said, folding his arms.  "Eggmen, surround them."

"What?" Darkwing squawked as the Eggmen moved into place around them.  There was an armed Eggman apiece aiming at Darkwing, Launchpad, and Gyro; Fenton had a good idea of what would happen if Gizmoduck tried to fight back.  "You said you'd give up Gyro and the Gizmosuit if we helped you!"

"You _promised_!" Fenton added helplessly.

Belle stared at the Eggmen then turned back to the other commanders, opening her beak; however, her doppelganger smirked and spoke before she could respond.  "We lied."

Fenton looked at Belle hopefully, but she simply shut her beak and did not protest the action.  His heart sank.  _What else did I expect from High Command?_ he thought, yet he was for some reason disappointed in her.

"I'm going to remove our back-ups to our nearest base," the raven said over Darkwing's loud protests at their treatment.  "And after that, it looks like I'll be calling some realtors."  He sighed and looked up at the hole in the ceiling dismally.  "This was such a nice building. . . ."

He retrieved his back-ups and left; the male duck and vulture disappeared to other parts of the building, although the duck hissed at the heroes as he passed, "We'll be back for _you_ shortly."  Belle was left with Steelbeak; she glanced at the cornered heroes, then started for the door.  
  
"Come on," she said brusquely to Steelbeak over her shoulder.  "I'll have the medical team meet us in the foyer."

"You're just gonna leave t'ese guys here?" Steelbeak asked doubtfully, looking over the captives.  "If the morons Bulba employs could t'row over fifty Eggmen, can't Gizmoduck do the same?"

"Hey, what about me?" Darkwing said to him indignantly.  
  
Belle paused in the doorway, then she turned back to them.  She looked at Gizmoduck for a long moment before turning to Edgar.  "I trust the Eggmen to uphold F.O.W.L.'s integrity."  Edgar stared up at her, biting his lower beak nervously as she added, "I trust them. . . implicitly."

She left without another word; Steelbeak followed her, shaking his head in bemusement.  Darkwing Duck glared after them, then he squirmed fiercely against the grip of the Eggman who held him captive.  "Steelbeak's right-- if Clovis van de Cudd can take out an Eggman, so can Darkwing Duck!  On the count of three, boys--"

"Wait.  Dat won't be necessary."  Edgar backed away from them and gestured to the other Eggmen.  "Let 'em go."  Some of the others made doubtful rumbles of protest although Norton, Fenton noticed, withdrew immediately.

Edgar's beak turned down in a frown and he snapped at the others, "Ya heard High Command, didn't ya?  She said to uphold F.O.W.L.'s integrity!"

"Uh, what's integrity?" one of the big ones asked, raising his hand slightly.  Edgar ignored him.

"Well F.O.W.L. made a promise to dese guys, and if High Command wants us to defend F.O.W.L.'s honor, we gotta keep dat promise!"

"Ohhh," the big one said.  "So _dat's_ integrity."

"Yeah," said another, medium-sized Eggman, "but da other commanders said to--"

"Who do ya trust more?" Norton interrupted with a growl.  "Edgar and da scary woman, or dose other guys in High Command?"

As he loomed over the protester, the smaller Eggman stammered, "E-edgar and da lady, of course!"

"I t'ought so."  Norton smiled amiably as the others finally backed away from the captives.  "Go on, guys.  Yer free to go.  I'll show you da back way out."  
  
"Erm. . . I. . . ."  Darkwing looked from Norton to Edgar in complete confusion.  ". . . thanks."

Edgar shrugged, then looked up at Fenton.  "You helped me an' Norton back dere at Bulba's.  Now we's returnin' da favor.  But after dis, we're even, got it?  You ain't gettin' no special treatment next time."

Fenton grinned down at the tiny duck with a happier feeling than he'd had in a long time.  "You got it, Edgar.  Just give me one minute-- there's something I need to do."

While the others waited impatiently, he bumped his way back down the steps into the basement and peered around amidst the crates and boxes.  After a moment, he returned to his friends triumphantly bearing his stolen Gizmosuit helmet, which he presented to Gyro.

"From now on, I'm not taking any chances," he told the inventor.

Gyro nodded absently and plunked the helmet down on his own head, then he went back to scribbling on the notepad he kept in his pocket.  "If we leave now, maybe I can still get a flight out to the inventors' convention today!" he said excitedly.  "I should have just enough time to finish these plans before I get there!"

Darkwing groaned.  "Let's just go."

After Norton had let them out of a back door to the building, Darkwing hopped on the Ratcatcher, which he had hidden a block away.  Gyro squeezed into the sidecar with Launchpad, and they sped off to the airport with Fenton trailing behind them in the Gizmosuit.

"Wow!" Gyro exclaimed, holding on to his helmet with one hand and his suitcase, which they had retrieved from F.O.W.L.'s headquarters, in the other.  "I never thought I'd get a superhero escort!"

"After what I've put you through lately, you deserve it," Fenton called.

"Nonsense!" Gyro declared as Darkwing pulled up in the drop-off lane at the airport.  The inventor climbed out of the sidecar a bit shakily.  "I've had some of my best ideas in _weeks_.  But," he went on as he pulled off the extra Gizmo helmet and stowed it in his suitcase, "try not to lose any more of your suit, okay?"

"Believe me," Fenton muttered, "that's one mistake I won't make again."

"Too bad F.O.W.L.'s relocating so soon," Darkwing sighed fifteen minutes later, after they were safely back in the tower where he had his hideout.  "This was my chance to take them out once and for all."

"I dunno, D.W.," Launchpad said.  "We couldn't've stopped Bulba without them."

"Bulba wouldn't have still been alive without them!" Darkwing growled.  He and Launchpad sat in the chairs that transported them back to the Mallard residence, leaving Fenton to follow with the hope that his suit wouldn't break the chair.  When they arrived in Darkwing's living room, they found Gosalyn and Honker waiting on them.

"Darkwing!  You're all right!" Gosalyn cried, slipping into her habit of calling her father by his superhero name when he was in costume, even though everyone present knew his identity.  
  
Darkwing gave her a tender hug then frowned.  "Why aren't you at school, young lady?"

"That's what I kept trying to tell her," Honker mumbled nasally.  "My parents are gonna kill me."

"We couldn't go to _school_ without knowing what was gonna happen to you!" Gosalyn said indignantly.  "So what _did_ happen?  Did ya beat Taurus Bulba?"

"Yep, yep, yep," Darkwing said proudly.  "I. . . well, _we_ did," he finished with sideways look at Launchpad and Fenton.  "I'll tell you all about it-- _after_ I've had a nap."

"Aw, c'mon!" Gosalyn pleaded, but Darkwing shook his head firmly.

"For now,  let's just say that no one will have to worry about Taurus Bulba ever again."  He glanced at the clock, then he looked back down at his daughter sternly.  "I _should_ make you go on to school. . . but I guess I can let it slide just this once.  Just don't burn down the house while we're asleep, okay?"

"Keen gear!" Gosalyn cried.

"I guess I should get this suit off and start back for Duckburg," Fenton said, wobbling slightly on his tire.  "M'ma will be worried sick!"  He had forgotten that Launchpad actually knew his mother until the pilot gave him a skeptical look.

"I. . . think she'll be okay without ya for another day," Launchpad said.  "And 'sides, you've been through a lot-- you can't travel when you're all worn out!  Why don't you stay here and--"

"Duckburg isn't _that_ far," Darkwing interrupted, "and I'm sure his dear mother _is_ terribly worried--"

"D. W.," Launchpad said with a frown.

Darkwing gave him a pained look, then he heaved a sigh and turned to Fenton.  "But L. P. is right-- you've been through a lot.  You're welcome to stay here until tomorrow."  He even smiled.

"Th. . . thanks," Fenton said weakly, returning the smile.

A little while later, after he had removed the Gizmosuit and repacked it carefully in its suitcase, Fenton and Launchpad sat on the sofa in Drake's living room with the muted TV turned to _All My Ducklings_ ; soap operas were the only thing on that time of day.  Darkwing Duck, conquering hero, was already fast asleep in his own room, and the kids had absconded to Gosalyn's room where she was probably planning something destructive.  For the moment, though, the house was peaceful.

"You think F.O.W.L.'s gonna leave you alone now?" Launchpad asked conversationally around a mouthful of a doughnut he had found in the kitchen.

"I don't know."  Fenton looked at the television screen without seeing it.  "But I'm going to be a lot more careful from now on, especially now that they know who I am.  I don't trust them."  He smiled a little in spite of his serious words.  "Although if Edgar and Norton were in charge, I might."

"Maybe you should move," Launchpad suggested, seeming not to have heard Fenton's last statement.  "I mean, what's to stop 'em from just comin' and grabbin' ya in the middle of the night or somethin'?"

"Yeah, that's a good point."  Fenton sighed and leaned back on the sofa.  "I could get a place under an assumed name. . . and maybe it's time I moved away from M'ma anyhow."

"Ya know," Launchpad said carefully after a moment, "maybe you should move here."

"To St. Canard?"  Fenton looked up at him in surprise, but Launchpad was now watching the screen.  "Wingy would love _that,_ wouldn't he, having Gizmoduck here full time?"

"Well, you could leave the superhero stuff to him and just keep doin' your military work."  Launchpad paused to yawn then went on, "Just step in when he couldn't handle it by himself, like the rest of the Justice Ducks."

"I don't know.  It. .. it _might_ work," Fenton mused.  "I'm sure I could get a transfer, and. . . well, I do love M'ma, but some time apart would be good for both of us.  And. . . and then there's Gandra."

When he broke off, Launchpad asked, "Mm?" sleepily.

"You know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder and all that.  And even if it doesn't. . . I won't be reminded of her all the time here.  Maybe. . . ."  Fenton fell silent, but he got no response from Launchpad.   When Fenton looked up, he realized why: the pilot was fast asleep.

"Blatherskite," Fenton muttered to himself, but he was smiling.  He leaned back on the sofa next to his friend and closed his eyes, deciding he could sleep on it before he made up his mind.

\--

To be continued


	14. Chapter 14

Belle heard her brother's shouts while the Eggman medical technicians she had called in were still bandaging her arm.  Others were treating the Eggmen who had encountered Bulba's thugs, and Steelbeak was slumped against a wall complaining intermittently about his bandaged wound and the ineffectiveness of the painkillers he'd been given.

"Sounds like Gizmoduck and Darkwing got away after all," Belle said wryly, dismissing the technicians and flexing her arm tentatively.  It hardly hurt at all; the real casualty was her red turtleneck, whose left sleeve was almost literally hanging on by a thread.

"I _knew_ we shouldn't've left 'em with t'ose Eggmen,"  Steelbeak grumbled.  Belle did not reply, but she was certain she had made the right decision.  There had been too much lying all around, and she felt it was her duty to tell the truth. . . even to Darkwing and Gizmoduck.

_Besides, if we tracked Gizmoduck down once, we can do it again,_ Belle thought.  _He's too duty-bound to go into hiding.  Next time, we'll be prepared. . . with more than one agent._   She looked at Steelbeak and stifled a sigh.

When Belle returned to what was left of the conference room, she found the Eggmen prostrate and Beau screaming his head off at them.  Commander Aquila was standing in the doorway watching the scene with a bored expression.

"What happened?" Belle asked as she came up behind him.

"Gizmoduck overpowered them and escaped with the others," the vulture said flatly.  "Not a big surprise, really."

"Lay off, Beau," Belle said loudly as she pushed past Aquila.  "You can't expect them to hold up against Gizmoduck after fighting Bulba's goons."

"Apparently, I can't expect them to do anything!" he snarled.  "Bunch of useless, idiotic--"

"You're dismissed," Belle spoke over him to the Eggmen.  They looked up at her warily as they got to their feet.  "We're suspending operations for a few days; you'll be called in when you're needed."

Beau glared at her as the Eggmen slunk out of the room.  "You've been letting them get away with far too much!  Them _and_ Steel--"

"I said _lay off_!" Belle snapped.  "Taurus Bulba is dead, and that's enough for me!  And if you don't want the police to find us here when someone reports that half of our building has disappeared, we should clear out."

"An excellent idea," Aquila said tiredly.  "We'll reconvene at a later date."

"I'll be at the base helping Chogan if you need me," Belle told him, purposely ignoring her brother.

"Shouldn't you get some rest?" Aquila asked her, though his immovable face showed no sign of concern.

"Later."  Belle stalked out of the room muttering, "Right now there's too much to do."

By the time she made it back to the foyer, most of the Eggmen had left for safer quarters, just in case Beau decided to heap more abuse upon them.  Only Norton and Edgar remained, both of whom were pleading with Steelbeak for something.

"But you promised us yesterday, boss," Norton was saying pitifully.  "And you said pizza, not just doughnuts."

"Geez, can't it wait until after I _ain't_ just been shot?" Steelbeak protested.

"You're fine.  Let them have their pizza," Belle said, the corner of her beak twitching in an almost-smile.  "They've had a rough twenty-four hours."

" _They've_ had it rough?" Steelbeak squawked.

"See, High Command _ordered_ us to have da pizza!" Edgar interrupted triumphantly.

"Okay, fine," the rooster grumbled.  "As long as _High Command_ gives you cab fare," he added with a glare at Belle.  "Since a certain bull stole my car, I had to take a taxi in t'is mornin'."

"In case you haven't noticed the massive destruction around here, we're going to be tight on money for a while," Belle retorted.  "I'm probably going to regret this, but. . . I'll give the three of you a ride."

The Eggmen stared at her-- Edgar had to look far up, and Norton far down-- with their beaks agape.  They had every right to be surprised; doing favors for Eggmen was hardly standard procedure.  But after all, they _had_ been through quite an ordeal, and even Belle felt slightly sorry for them.

"Come on," she said brusquely, pushing past the three of them to the door.  "I've got things to do."

The ride to Steelbeak's penthouse was silent.  Steelbeak did not speak at all until Belle had pulled into the parking deck; when she made no move to get out of the car with him and the Eggmen, he looked at her critically.

"Ain't you comin' up?"

Belle gave him an incredulous glance.  "Why should I?"  
  
"It's a long way to the top!  You gonna let F.O.W.L.'s top agent go all t'at way wit' a mortal wound and only two Eggmen to help him?"

"It's hardly mortal," she corrected to stall for time while she tried to decipher Steelbeak's motives.  Belle finally decided it would just be easier to go with him and get it over with than to figure out what he was up to.  "But all right."

She got out of her Prius and waited as Steelbeak hobbled dramatically to the elevator in the garage, leaning on Norton and resting one hand on Edgar's head like the small Eggman was a cane.  Belle followed them into the elevator then stared straight ahead and tapped her foot impatiently as it ascended to the top floor of the building.

Once they had entered Steelbeak's penthouse apartment, Belle looked around in distaste.  She was used to seeing it on High Command's monitor when they gave Steelbeak assignments, but actually being in it reminded her more strongly of what an extravagance it was.  The penthouse had always been awarded to F.O.W.L.'s top agent, and Steelbeak had moved in after one of his predecessors had met her demise.  However, he had even more expensive tastes than she had, and the apartment had been severely over-accessorized by St. Canard's finest interior decorator.  Belle folded her arms and glared at Steelbeak's elegant leather sofa as the Eggmen deposited him onto it.

"So boss, can we get dat pizza now?" Edgar asked.  Belle noticed that he was giving her a wide berth.  She herself felt a bit awkward around the Eggmen-- for one thing, Edgar was a _lot_ shorter than she had realized.

"Yeah, do it online. . . .   Computer's in my bedroom," Steelbeak pointed. 

The Eggmen scrambled towards the indicated door, then Norton paused and asked hopefully, "Can we get extra cheese?"

"Sure, fine, extra cheese," the rooster sighed.

"Yay!"  Norton disappeared into the other room with a happy cry.

"At least the boys're low maintenance, ah ah ah ah ah," Steelbeak chuckled.  He stretched then winced with a baleful look at his wounded chest.   "By the way, am I gonna hafta pay for the video phone?  I t'ink it broke on Bulba's noggin."

"I should think you could afford it," Belle said pointedly, gesturing at the furniture.  "I suppose F.O.W.L. paid for all this?"

"Yeah, it was my Christmas bonus, remember?  Believe me, babe, I woulda rather had the cash."  He thumped the spot next to him on the sofa with his hand.  "Comfy, t'ough.  Siddown, and I'll buy you some pizza.  T'at'll make up for you givin' us a ride, at least."

"I'm not staying," Belle said, even though she sat down beside him.  "There's too much to do.  Chogan wants us to start looking for a new location immediately."

"You never quit, do you?" Steelbeak said in a tone of incredulous amusement.

Belle gave him a deadpan look.  "Would you be more satisfied if I said it would be bad for morale if the Eggmen saw High Command eating pizza?  I don't even _like_ pizza."

"I guess t'at's a good enough excuse."  Steelbeak rolled his eyes as he leaned back on the sofa.  "Go do yer house-huntin' wit' Commander Chogan t'en.   Alt'ough, what kinda freak doesn't like _pizza_?"

Belle started to get up, but she hesitated.  She realized now why she had really come up with him: Steelbeak had saved her life, and for all his faults, he deserved an acknowledgement of that.  Too bad being honest with him was so damn hard.  "Steelbeak. . . ."

He gave her a somewhat worried look.  "Uh, if callin' a High Commander a freak is a punishable offense, I didn't mean it."  
                                                                                                                             
Belle looked down at her lap, ignoring the comment.  "If you hadn't distracted Bulba, he would have killed me.  I never expected you to do something like that, even for High Command."

"Uh, yeah, well.  I had to do _somet'in'_.  If the rest a' High Command seen me lettin' him. . . ya know, kill ya, they probably would've finished me off t'emselves, ah ah ah ah ah."

"I don't know about that.  Beau might've had you promoted."  Belle raised her head to look at him again, even managing a faint sardonic smile.

"Babe. . . you did the same t'ing for me," Steelbeak pointed out abruptly.  "You coulda stayed down t'ere wit' the others."

"No," Belle murmured.  "I couldn't."  When he blinked at her and opened his beak to speak again, she went on more brusquely, "I had to do _something_.  I couldn't let Bulba destroy our top agent."

"Heh.  I guess not."  Steelbeak was quiet a moment, then he reached his left hand into his tattered jacket, feeling around.  "T'at reminds me. . . I walked off wit' t'is."  He produced Belle's F.O.W.L. ring and held it out to her.  "I guess I ain't earned it yet if I let Bulba kick my tail feathers."

Belle took it from him and regarded it thoughtfully, then she slid it onto her finger.  Aloud, she said wryly, "I'm still surprised you didn't keep it."

"Like I said, it clashes wit' my beak."  Steelbeak shifted to lean forward slightly, wincing at the pressure on his shoulder he did so.  "Yours, on the other hand, matches perfectly," he pointed out, tapping her on the bill.

"I'll keep that in mind."  Belle glanced at her hand then back up at him.  "I have to go.  Will you be all right?"

"I guess."  He prodded his bandaged shoulder and winced.  " _Shit_ , ow."

"It's going to hurt if you poke it, you moron," Belle groaned.  "Just leave it alone, and it'll be fine.  And if you need anything. . . ."  She leaned forward and put a finger under his beak in the same patronizing manner he had used on her a few days ago.  "Call somebody else."

" _Ouch_ ," he murmured.  Before she could straighten up,  he put his hand under her own beak and drew her closer.  "You really _are_ an ice princess.  An' here I was startin' to t'ink you was gonna melt a little."

"What gave you that idea?" she asked, her beak now only a couple inches away from his despite her words.

"How often does High Command make home visits, for starters?"

"Only when an agent _really_ needs putting in his place," Belle hissed.

Steelbeak drew in his breath sharply, almost with a moan.  She had been suspicious of the dialogue until then, but that noise was unmistakable.  _He's **flirting** with me,_ she thought incredulously.

"T'en by all means," Steelbeak murmured, "start puttin'."

Belle had touched her organic beak to his metallic one before she was even conscious of what she was doing.  She hadn't intended to kiss him-- not then, not ever.  She'd made the mistake of loving someone when she had her first (and last) boyfriend a decade ago, and in that relationship, Belle learned what Edgar had realized when faced with leaving Norton behind:  affection, vulnerability must be stifled at all costs, even if it takes lies to do it.  And yet, here she was, making the same mistake all over again.

She started to pull back, horrified, but Steelbeak had already shifted his hand from her beak to the side of her head, preventing her from withdrawing.  Then, to her complete amazement, he flexed his jointed beak beneath hers, kissing her hard in return.

It only lasted a moment before his hand dropped and she was able to stand up and step away from him.  They looked at one another wordlessly,  then Belle started for the door.  She paused at the partition which separated it from the rest of the room and looked back at him.  "We'll contact you when we get back on our feet and have another mission for you."

"Sure."  Steelbeak nodded, then he said, "T'at didn't mean nuttin'.  Did it?"

"Of course not," Belle said automatically.  Of course not, even though her heart was racing.  
    
Steelbeak gave her a half smirk as she turned to the door, and for the first time Belle felt like they understood one another.  She had lied to him, and maybe he had lied to her-- but sometimes lies were a lot easier to handle than the truth.

\--

To be continued


	15. Epilogue

As soon as the Eggmen and commanders had cleared out of what was left of F.O.W.L. headquarters, Clovis van de Cudd led Taurus Bulba's goons out of their hiding place behind an innocent-looking pile of rubble. "This way," she ordered them as she stalked toward High Command's conference room. Hammerhead, Hoof, and Mouth followed nervously.

"Start searching for any remains of Taurus Bulba," Clovis told the goons once they were certain the room was abandoned. Hoof and Mouth looked at one another skeptically, but Hammerhead started sifting through what was left of the desk. He knew better than to cross Clovis when she had a plan.

It was Hoof who found what was left of the former crime boss and so-called F.O.W.L. agent. Hammerhead heard the donkey give a loud, screeching bray, then Hoof scrambled backwards over the piles of building material, away from whatever he had found. Hammerhead and Mouth hurried over, the short ram peering around Hoof's legs as Hammerhead looked over his shoulder.

The goat found himself looking down at Taurus Bulba's head. The helmet and mask that had partially covered his face were gone, revealing the gore left from the explosion that had "killed" him the first time. The flesh on the top part of his head was in shreds, showing the white of his skull, and his left eye socket was empty. However, these were old wounds, healed over by whatever F.O.W.L. technology had kept him alive. In fact, there seemed to be little fresh damage to Bulba's head-- except for the fact that it was no longer attached to a body.

Instead, his neck terminated in some kind of mechanical apparatus which had apparently been used to fasten it to his cyborg body. It was a squat, cylindrical translucent jar filled with fluid into which Bulba's neck was inserted. Various ports were scattered around the sides of the jar where Bulba's reconstructed nerves had been attached. Now, however, there was no body left to control.

"Yuck," Mouth said succinctly.

Hammerhead was inclined to agree, but his discomfiture increased a hundred-fold when Taurus Bulba's head opened its single remaining eye. All three goons screamed, but Clovis remained unmoved; she merely looked down at the head, waiting.

Bulba's eye blinked, then began to shift as he looked about the room. It finally fell on her and seemed to clear. "Clo. . . vis," the head said with some effort. His voice sounded essentially mechanical, but Hammerhead could recognize something of the old Bulba in it.

"H-how can he still talk?" Mouth whispered frantically. "He doesn't have any lungs!"

"He don't need lungs," Hammerhead retorted in a low voice. "He's got. . . uh, he's got neck juice!"

Ignoring them, Bulba spoke again to Clovis. It took him a while to form the words. "Clovis. . . it is time. . . to initiate. . . Plan B."

The goons looked at one another in shock, but Clovis merely nodded. "Yes, Taurus Bulba." She bent down and picked up her boss's head and carried it to the door leading out of the decimated conference room. She paused there and turned, holding up the head so that Bulba could see Hammerhead, Hoof, and Mouth.

Bulba glared at them. "Well? Come. . . on. We. . . don't have. . . all day."

The three started and looked at one another. Hammerhead swallowed hard, but then he nodded. "Sure, boss, we're comin'."

\--

The End


End file.
